


Hells Bells

by daisyisawriter91



Category: Merlin (TV), Supernatural
Genre: (Slightly), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Pendragon Returns, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Hunters & Hunting, Immortal Merlin, M/M, Season/Series 05, Slow Build, briefly Punk!Merlin, heavily implied Castiel/Dean Winchester - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-03-11 22:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 25,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisyisawriter91/pseuds/daisyisawriter91
Summary: Arthur returns from Avalon in the year 2009. The year Lucifer rises. But when he meets Merlin, he doesn't find what he expected from his goofy manservant.





	1. Sweet Home Alabama

**Author's Note:**

> (artist: Lynyrd Skynyrd)

It had been pure instinct, fighting his way to the light. Arthur Pendragon’s head broke the surface and he gasped in the cool air, lungs burning with the sting of it. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in that damn lake, but judging by the rust and mud on his armor, it had been a long time.  
Arthur fought his way to the shore and collapsed on the sandy bank, huffing air in and out. His throat was scratchy, and if he attempted to use his voice, it would come out thin and raspy with disuse.  
Dripping, covered in dirt and rust, lying completely still, Arthur was just happy to be breathing once again.  
The sun was high in the sky, with clouds drifting lazily through the sky. Judging by the air, it was early autumn, possibly.  
Finally, after what had to be thirty minutes of catching his breath and taking in the fact that he was alive, Arthur stood and looked around, puzzling over his unfamiliar surroundings.  
The ground was flat all around him. Flat plains stretched for miles, and in the middle of it all, was a pure black river that looked strangely solid. Poles stood high above him, but there were no flags attached. Instead, there were faint lines that served a purpose Arthur was unable to see or comprehend. Perhaps they supported something? He couldn't be sure.  
Arthur turned back to look at the lake, but it was gone. He was fairly certain that wasn’t natural. Then again, magic was real and had been in the heart of Camelot, so what did he know?  
Through his confusion over the new editions to the landscape, a thought popped into his head. _Merlin._ Where was Merlin? Arthur had to find him, to tell him everything was alright. He remembered his best friend’s tears as Arthur took his last breaths, and he refused to see them again unless they were joyful. Arthur had to make sure the most recent memory of his dearest friend wasn’t a sad one.  
With renewed fervor, Arthur stepped cautiously towards the black river. It didn’t appear to be moving, and it made no sounds. It looked as though Arthur could cross it without sinking. Not wanting to take chances, he took off his cloak and laid it on the river. It did nothing except sit there.  
Snatching back up his cloak, he took a hesitant step forward. It was solid. Arthur realized that this blackness wasn’t a river. It was a _road_. Of some sort. Unlike anything Arthur had ever seen, but if it wasn’t water, than it was a path. If he followed the road, where would he end up? There was no way of knowing where this sort of road would lead.  
He needed to find civilization, even if he couldn’t understand what any of it meant. He needed to find a way to contact Merlin, who could explain everything to him. Unless…unless Merlin was dead.  
It was too terrible a thought. Arthur shook his head, fiercely, and resolved to follow the path. He decided to travel west, as that was the direction that Camelot was in. And if he could find anywhere, he’d want to find Camelot.  
The walk was silent, leaving Arthur with his thoughts. The occasional chirping of birds could be heard, and the rustle of the grass in the wind. It was silent and peaceful, until it wasn’t.  
A loud humming, _growling_ of a sort was getting louder. Arthur turned and saw a large black beast, glinting in the sunlight. It was the strangest sort of beast Arthur had ever seen. It appeared to be made of metal, it resembled a square, and it had wheels (at least, Arthur assumed that’s what they were) for feet. Arthur dove out of the way of the beast, but he hadn’t a need to. The beast veered off to the opposite side.  
Arthur wished desperately for a sword as the beast came to a halt. As it was, he was defenseless. What had happened to Excalibur?  
Much to Arthur’s surprise, parts of the beast shifted. Orifices that faintly recalled of doors opened on the beast, and two men stepped out, wearing the strangest garments Arthur had ever seen. They approached Arthur, who stood his ground. If he was about to be attacked, than he would face it. They were but men, even if they had come out of a beast.  
“Dude, what the hell was that?!” The shorter of the two, taller than Arthur, barked. “You can’t just walk out in the middle of the road like that!”  
“It is a _road_ , is it not? The nature of roads is to follow them.” Arthur snapped back.  
“Yeah, for cars!” The man said, angrily.  
_Cars._ The word was highly unfamiliar to him. The taller of the men, equal to Perceval in height, Arthur estimated, looked Arthur up and down.  
“What happened? Are you alright?” Though he was taller, it was obvious he was the gentler one of the two. A lot like Perceval, than.  
“I’m fine. I just need to find the nearest town and contact my manservant.” Arthur caught a whiff of his own scent as he was talking and scrunched up his nose. “Wash myself, as well.” He added. A look of comprehension dawned on both of the men.  
“You’re…you’re King Arthur.” The taller one said, breathless. He appeared completely starstruck.  
“Yes, I am. Were you expecting me?”  
“More like hoping for you.” The taller man added.  
“I wasn’t.” The shorter man said. The taller one gave him a glare that could rival Merlin’s. “What? He can’t rise up from the dead for the Holocaust or some other crap, but he can rise up now?” The shorter man went on the defensive.  
“Holocaust?” Arthur asked, confused at the words. He went completely ignored.  
“This is the _Apocalypse_ , Dean. Actual end of the world. Put that into perspective. Lucifer, Michael, everything. Of course he’s gonna wake up for that!” The taller man argued.  
“Excuse me, who are you two?” Arthur interjected, loud enough to break up the argument. He'd been getting frustrated, not being privy to what appeared to be an important conversation.  
“Right, sorry. I’m Sam, this is my big brother, Dean.” The taller one, Sam, introduced them both. Dean gave a nod in acknowledgement. “We’re friends of Merlin’s.” Sam added. Arthur’s eyes widened.  
“Merlin? He’s still…alive?” Arthur could hardly believe it.  
“And kicking.” Dean answered. “He’s been waiting for you. You’re gonna have Hell to pay for makin’ him wait so long.”  
“How long have I been…?” Arthur let the rest of the sentence hang. There was no need to say it out loud. He didn't think he could.  
“About 1500 years. It’s the year 2009.” Dean answered, a bit softer than before. Arthur staggered back as though struck. 1500 years. He’d left Merlin alone for _1500 years_. How could he do something like that?  
“Why would Merlin want to see me after that?” Arthur asked, earnestly.  
“I have no idea. But we should probably call him.” Dean said.  
“Sorry, hun. I don’t think that’s a good plan.” A woman’s voice called. Arthur jumped and saw a woman in the most revealing black dress he’d ever seen. But that wasn’t what startled him (at least, not completely). Her eyes were pure black to match. “The king’s ours.”  
Arthur looked around and saw that they were suddenly surrounded by equally black-eyed people, all wearing odd garments like Sam and Dean. He hadn’t even heard them coming. He reached to his side, instinctively, but found himself lacking a sword.  
They were outnumbered, and neither Sam nor Dean appeared armed, either. There was no chance the people would spare them, he could sense the hostility. Arthur was going to die, again, without ever having apologized to Merlin.  
“You’re not getting him.” Sam said, voice firm.  
“That’s cute. You think you have a chance.” The black-eyed woman crooned.  
“He doesn’t, but I do.” A new voice said. Arthur was getting tired of all these sudden voices. He looked to the new voice and saw a man.  
The man was tall, lean but muscled, wearing stranger garments than even Sam and Dean. Parts of his head had been shaved, but his black hair was in an odd style, falling to the front of his face. Arthur could recognize tattoos, even if he couldn’t recognize the patterns on the man’s arms, circling his shoulders and ending just before his wrists. It took Arthur all of two seconds to recognize who it was.  
“Merlin?!”


	2. Back In Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: AC/DC)

Arthur couldn’t believe his eyes. Merlin was there, clad in strange clothes, but it was still _his_ warlock.  
Merlin gave him a mischievous grin, one Arthur knew well, before turning back to the black-eyed people. He stepped forward, coming to stand directly in front of the brothers and Arthur.  
“Now, I can honestly say I don’t know you, but if you touch my boys or my king, I’m gonna have to pull your heart out through your throat. Doesn’t sound very pleasant, does it?” Merlin said, acting pleasantly, but with an aura of menace Arthur had never seen on his best friend. Strangely, it…suited him. In an odd way that Arthur couldn’t even begin to understand. “Make the smart choice and smoke out or I’ll douse you with holy water until you drown.” He punctuated the sentence with a chilling smile. It was far too unsettling.  
The woman glared daggers at Merlin, but Arthur could see right through it. Her posture betrayed her eyes. She was terrified of Merlin. If Arthur was in her shoes, he’d be terrified, too. What had happened to him?  
“This isn’t over.” She spat. Merlin's smile widened into a full grin with no joy behind it, something that Arthur shuddered at, unable to believe what he was seeing.  
“Oh, I believe it is.” Merlin countered. She glared, silently, for a moment before black smoke poured out of her mouth. Arthur stared, horrified, mouth agape, as all the other black eyed people went through the same phenomena. The bodies fell to the ground. Merlin snapped his fingers, and the bodies disappeared in blue smoke clouds.  
When it was finally over, Arthur stood stock still, completely dumbfounded. Merlin turned to Sam and Dean, a worried expression on his face. He truly _did_ care about these two. “You boys alright?” He asked, looking between the two of them.  
“Yeah, we’re good. Might wanna check on King Douchebag over there.” Dean said, though his words barely registered to Arthur. Barely comprehending what he was seeing, he saw Merlin walk over to him.  
“Arthur?” Merlin asked, quietly.  
“Merlin. It’s…it’s you.” Arthur whispered, disbelief heavy in his voice.  
“You’re fucking right it’s me.” Merlin said.  
The words washed over him, Arthur completely missing the meaning. Something he definitely _did_ register was the unexpected fist to his face. He was sent to the ground from the surprisingly strong blow. Seconds later, there were lips on his. But the lips were strange. There was metal on one of them. Before Arthur could even react to either the kiss or the punch, Merlin pulled back and stood to his full height.  
“I wasn’t sure which I wanted to do, so I did both.” Merlin explained. He offered a hand to Arthur, who took it, if a bit reluctantly. “Sorry about that. But you _did_ leave me alone for 1500 years, so I think that’s valid.” Arthur was soon wrapped in a fierce, tight hug, one he gladly returned. “I missed you, clotpole.” Merlin muttered, and in that moment, he was the one Arthur remembered oh so well.  
“Shut up, _Mer_ lin.” He said back, with no real heat. Merlin let go of Arthur and stepped back. Arthur noticed that Merlin’s nails were black. That was odd, but not more so than anything else he'd seen.  
“We’ve gotta go. Where’s Baby?” Merlin asked, addressing Dean. Dean pointed, mutely, to where the beast had veered off course. Merlin nodded and grabbed Arthur’s arm, dragging him towards the beast.  
“Merlin, what the hell are you doing?!” Arthur exclaimed, panicking.  
“It’s perfectly safe, Arthur. If anything, it’s more reliable than horses.” Merlin said, like he was talking to a five-year-old. In a way, he was. Arthur knew nothing about the year 2009, so he was as helpless as a small child.  
Merlin opened one of the doors and shoved Arthur inside. Arthur's head just missed the top, which he was certain would hurt. Through his armor, he couldn't feel the seats, but he was guessing they were made of a type of leather too refined for his era. “Sorry about this, sire. Can’t have you panicking on the road.” Merlin apologized. Arthur opened his mouth to express his confusion, but Merlin pressed two of his fingers to Arthur’s forehead.  
Arthur passed out, cold.

 

Merlin watched as Arthur slumped against the seat of the Impala. “Sleep tight, dollophead.” Merlin muttered, tapping Arthur's face, and shutting the door.  
With a quick glance to Dean, Merlin opened the door to the driver’s seat and slipped inside. Dean sat in the passenger’s seat, and with a loud and heavy sigh, Sam sat next to Arthur.  
“Are ya ready kids?” Merlin asked, rakish grin on his face.  
“Aye aye, Captain.” Dean replied, enthusiastically.  
“Good. Let’s go raise a little hell.”  
Merlin snagged the Impala’s keys from Dean and slid them into the ignition. The car started with a purr. Merlin petted her dash. “Hello, pretty lady. Miss me?” He whispered to her. Almost in response, the engine rumbled. It brought a true smile to Merlin's face.  
Putting his foot on the gas pedal, he pulled out of the ditch Dean had steered Baby into and started off down the road.  
As he drove, he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Arthur, now asleep on Sam’s shoulder, the taller man visibly uncomfortable with this turn of events. Memories flooded into Merlin’s mind, unbidden. _“I don’t want you to change…I want you to always be you…”_  
_Certainly failed in that, Arthur._ Merlin grumbled, mentally. Wisely, neither of the Winchesters spoke. They obviously sensed Merlin needed some quiet, which was true. Or maybe he had actually grumbled aloud and both of them were concerned about his mental wellbeing.  
Merlin had changed drastically since his time in Camelot. Yes, in appearance, obviously. He was wearing combat boots and a loose tank top. He had a lip piercing, for Christ’s sake! But what had truly changed about Merlin was something that had desperately needed to change. He actually gave a shit about himself now. He would’ve liked to think Arthur could understand that change.  
And because he cared about himself, he dressed himself in clothes he liked. If what he liked changed, than he’d get different clothes. It was…nice, to take care of himself. He slept at a relatively normal pace, he worried more about himself and those close to him, though he never forgot the greater good and the entire world. He even had hobbies, now! Granted, perhaps monster hunting wasn’t the _greatest_ hobby to take up, but still. He enjoyed it and didn’t get paid for it, so it was, by all technicalities, a hobby.  
“Merlin, you okay?” Dean asked, concerned. Merlin flicked his eyes towards Dean before looking back at the road.  
“Let’s say your best friend dies. Right? It’s complete, ripping, unbearable agony. So, you have to wait for him to come back. You wait 1500 years. You start to worry you’re losing your mind. You start to worry you’re forgetting what he looks like, what he sounds like. Then, one day, he comes back. He doesn’t know anything about where he is, and he remembers you as the person you used to be. Tell me, would you be okay after that?” Merlin said, very calmly. Dean opened his mouth to say something else, but thought better of it and shut his jaw with a small _click_. Perhaps it was a bit harsh, but Merlin wasn't in the mood.  
“Why did you kiss him?” Sam asked from the backseat.  
“Shut up, Sam.” Merlin and Dean harmonized.  
The car was silent, with only Arthur’s slight snores filling the cab for what felt like an eternity. The atmosphere was tense, both boys acting like they wanted to say something to break it, but neither having the guts. Merlin chewed on his lip, thoughtfully. And that was when a line of people appeared on the road.  
“FUCK!” Merlin screeched, surprised, and steered the Impala to the side. Baby came to a halt and Merlin looked back at the people in the road. They were coming towards him. “Fuck.” He muttered again. Using a little bit of his magic, he summoned two things he never thought he’d have to use again. Excalibur, and his beautiful white staff. “Wake up, magnificent prat!” He shouted to Arthur, who blinked awake, suddenly. “We got work to do.”  
Merlin threw Excalibur back, blindly, and climbed out of the car. He was confident Arthur could catch such a precious artifact.  
He approached the people, ten, in total. He stared at them, closely, and tried to discern their real species. Angels. Absolutely magnificent. Exactly what they needed with a recently reawakened king and freshly cleansed demon blood junkie. “If you’re here for Michael’s vessel, than you’re shit out of luck. If you’re here for King Clotpole, than you’re also shit out of luck. If you’re here to get your asses handed to you on plates, than you’ve come to the right place.” Merlin said, as intimidatingly as he could. Though he’d managed to get the aura thing working, he was never very good at words. Moments later, Arthur stood by his side, having taken a few moments to work the car door handle. Every movement was punctuated by a creaking sound, from the rust on Arthur's armor. Merlin would worry about that when Arthur was unable to move. Until that point, he'd conserve energy.  
The angels slid out their blades, and Merlin rolled his eyes. “Ready to fight?” Merlin murmured, for Arthur's ears alone.  
“I’ve been trained to kill since birth, I would’ve thought you’d remember.” Arthur responded.  
“And how long have you been training to be a prat?” Merlin shot back, mischievous grin on his face.  
"Oh, Merlin," Arthur began. He twirled his sword in his hand and got into his stance. "Longer than you could imagine." There they were, about to get attacked by powerful entities and yet bantering like there wasn’t a care in the world. Just like old times.


	3. Hot Blooded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Foreigner)

Merlin shifted his grip on his staff and waited for the angels to make their move. He didn’t have to wait long, all things considered They _were_ angels, they were a fair bit more eager than others.  
The angels surged forward and Merlin gathered power into his staff. Arthur swung his sword at an oncoming angel, and it cut open her belly. Seconds later, white light poured from her eyes and mouth, showing that she had, indeed been killed. That was a relief. Merlin wasn’t completely sure Excalibur would work on angels.  
Merlin shot his gathered power at a few of the angels, filling them with holes. Once again, white light shone brightly from their eyes and mouths. Great, his magic would work, too! He had really gone into this half-cocked. That was how most of his better ideas were cooked up.  
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted. Merlin looked and ducked an oncoming blow from one of the angels, just in time. With no time to gather power, he whacked the angel in the head with his staff and stole the angel’s blade. He stabbed the slightly dazed angel and found it worked much better.  
Merlin looked up to see Arthur killing the last angel  
“Good job.” Merlin said, grinning. “Let’s get the hell outta here. Come on.” Merlin grabbed Arthur’s elbow and dragged him back to the Impala. Dean and Sam were running towards him. “I’m good, I’m good.” Merlin reassured them, waving off their help. Merlin retrieved the keys from his pocket and tossed them to Dean. “Your turn. Sioux Falls.”  
“Sioux Falls? What is that?” Arthur asked, being shoved into the backseat by Merlin, himself. Merlin climbed in next to him and shut the door behind them.  
“It’s where I live.” Merlin answered. Arthur shot Merlin a confused look.  
“You don’t live in Camelot, anymore?” Arthur questioned. Merlin looked away, slightly ashamed. “Camelot…isn’t around anymore, is it?” Merlin couldn’t look Arthur in the eyes for this part.  
“Three years after the reign of Queen Guinevere, the kingdom was vulnerable. The Saxons came and destroyed our city. I tried to stop them, to keep…to keep something of my family alive, but there were too many and I was too inexperienced at that point. I couldn’t save Camelot, I’m sorry.” Merlin bit his lip, careful to avoid his piercing.  
“Merlin, it’s…it’s alright.” Arthur said, quietly. Merlin looked up. “When I first heard the word ‘2009’, I figured that much of my previous life was gone. It’s a miracle that you’re here, now.” Merlin smiled. He had to admit, he was surprised at Arthur's maturity towards him. Then again, maybe being thrown for a loop brought out the diplomatic king in him, rather than the man Merlin called a prat.  
“Yeah, I guess so.”

 

Merlin had to explain everything he knew about cars, which was quite a lot, for Arthur to stay calm. It took up the entirety of the drive to this so-called ‘Sioux Falls’. Arthur was confused by most of it, but Merlin was taking the time to teach him, so he listened. Some of it _started_ to make sense. By the time they got to that point, they had pulled up to an odd-looking house with a sign out-front that said ‘Emrys Auto’. Other versions of cars lined the path down to the house.  
Now, Arthur was seated in Merlin’s ‘kitchen’, where he would wait until Dean produced some spare clothes, as they were the closest in size.  
Merlin began explaining certain things Arthur asked about, with what must surely be the patience of a saint.  
Dean came back and threw Arthur some clothes. “Thank you.” Arthur said.  
“I’ll show you to the bathroom.” Merlin offered, and lead the way down the hall. Arthur followed, oddly cradling the clothes. Merlin opened a door that lead to a bland colored room. It felt colder than the rest of the home had, and had a very strange set of objects in it. “Alright, where do I begin explaining this?” Merlin asked himself. “That’s the modern equivalent of a chamber pot.” Merlin pointed to the oddly shaped white bowl. “That’s all you need to know for now.” Merlin hesitated. “Do you need me to show you how modern clothes work?” He asked, eyebrow quirked.  
“I’m a grown man, _Mer_ lin. I can figure it out.” Arthur snapped. Merlin shrugged and left the room. Arthur peeled off his mud crusted chainmail and threw it to the side, taking the offered clothes. The trousers were easy enough. There were odd metal teeth in it, but Arthur figured out how to close them. The shirt, however, was a bit more difficult. He wasn’t sure how, but he got himself stuck.  
There came a knock at the door. “Arthur? You’ve been in there a long time. Are you alright?” Merlin called.  
“I, um…I’m a bit stuck.” It wounded his pride to admit, but Arthur would rather have wounded pride than die in this shirt.  
“I knew it, you prat.” He sounded smug, which Arthur absolutely _despised_. The door opened and Merlin stepped inside, immediately laughing when he saw Arthur. “I knew you weren’t the brightest bulb, but this…this is better than I could’ve hoped.” Merlin walked over to where Arthur was stuck and began untangling him. “You’re supposed to unbutton it, _then_ put it on.” Merlin unbuttoned the shirt and helped Arthur slide it on. He buttoned it up, closing it over Arthur’s chest. Arthur caught his eyes and they stared at each other for a moment. Arthur put his hands around Merlin’s upper arms, Merlin glanced down at Arthur’s lips. Arthur leaned forward and…  
A loud ringing sound. Merlin gave a little jump and rushed out of the bathroom. Arthur watched him go. He lingered where he was for a few minutes, a strange regret filling him, before following Merlin to the room that had been referred to as a kitchen. He held a strange device to his ear.  
“Okay, Nick, stay calm. I’ll be there soon. Just do not, under any circumstances, say ‘yes’. Got it? …okay. See you in a bit. Okay, bye.” Merlin took the device from his ear and shoved it into his pocket. “Alright, boys, we’re heading to Delaware.” Merlin said.  
“Delaware? Why?” Sam asked.  
“Lucifer, that’s why.” Merlin answered. _Lucifer._ Arthur had heard the name. In the early days of Christianity in his country, he’d heard some of the terms. Though he'd never paid any attention to them. Perhaps he should've.  
“Wait, wait, wait. _Lucifer?_ ” Dean demanded.  
“Yep. The big guy’s taking a vessel. Trying to tempt an old friend of mine. We’re not gonna let that happen.” Merlin used many words Arthur didn't understand, but gave the general tone of explanation.  
“And we’re taking that guy?” Dean asked, gesturing to Arthur.  
“Hell yes, we’re taking ‘that guy’! Demons and angels who the hell knows what else are after him! He’s only safe with us!” Merlin argued, in a tone of voice that said there would be Hell to pay if he was argued with.  
“Alright, alright, we’re going to Delaware.” Dean assented, attempting to appear peaceful.  
Arthur nodded along, compliant, and wondered to himself what on Earth a ‘Delaware’ was.


	4. Runnin' With the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Van Halen)

Merlin tapped nervously on the steering wheel as they neared Nick’s house. “Merlin. You alright?” Dean asked from the passenger’s seat.  
“I can’t let Nick be tempted. I _can’t_.” Merlin insisted.  
“How do you know this Nick guy, anyways?” Sam asked.  
“We were together. For about a year.” Merlin answered.  
“Together during what?” Arthur asked.  
“Oh, I forgot, modern slang goes right over his head. Sam, could you take this one?” Merlin said.   
“Yeah, sure.” Sam agreed.   
Within moments, Merlin pushed his foot on the brake. “Oh, good God. No, no, no, no, no…” He muttered. “Stay here, be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”   
“Merlin, what is it?” Arthur asked.   
“We’re too late.” Merlin answered and got out of the car, running towards the house across the street. He could feel the Archangel energy radiating off the house.   
Merlin opened the door and ran up the stairs, Lucifer’s energy taking the breath out of his lungs. He bounded into Nick’s bedroom and saw him.   
He had Nick’s face, Nick’s clothes, but he wasn’t Nick. The way he held himself, the look in his eyes, the aura hanging around him…that was all Lucifer.   
Lucifer looked up at Merlin and smiled, slowly. Almost…invitingly. “Hello, old friend.” He said.  
“Let Nick go.” Merlin growled.   
“Now, Merlin, you know as well as I do that vessels for angels must give consent. And yes, I’m fallen, but I am still an angel.” Lucifer took a step towards Merlin, but Merlin stepped back. Lucifer froze in his tracks, the way one would when faced with a startled animal.  
“He won’t last long, and you know it.” Merlin countered. Lucifer shrugged.  
“Think of him as my Plan B. He’s sturdy enough to hold me until he’s no longer needed. But if you want to spare him…” Lucifer looked at Merlin, suggestively. “You’re powerful enough to hold me, Merlin.” Merlin gave a laugh without humor.  
“If this were thirty years ago, I would’ve agreed without a second thought. But Nick made his choice, and I’m making mine. No, Lucifer, I will _not_ be your condom. My boys need me, now, and letting you in would be signing my own death contract.” Merlin answered. Lucifer was relentless.  
“But isn’t that what you prayed for? A way _out_? A way to take all your pain away?” Lucifer suggested. Merlin blinked. He’d thought Lucifer had forgotten about Merlin’s praying phase, back during the Black Plague. Lucifer took a step forward. Merlin didn’t step back. “Didn’t you want that?”  
“I did want that, once. But I need to stay strong. Because if I let you wear me to prom, then Sam will say yes to you to save me. Winchesters are self-sacrificing idiots, and I can’t let their natures land them into deep shit. No, Lucifer. My final answer is no.”   
Lucifer finally reached Merlin, barely an inch away from each other.  
“I’ll always answer you, Merlin. If you change your mind. Sam is my true vessel, that’s true…but I can’t just ignore the prayers of the only person who prayed to the _real_ me.” Lucifer stepped a microscopic amount forward, but Merlin felt it. “One of you, Sam or you, will say yes to me in the end.”  
“Is that a threat?” Merlin asked. Lucifer’s eyes almost looked _hurt_.  
“Of course not. I’d never hurt either of you. Ever. It’s simply what I know is true.” Lucifer said, voice low and too intimate for Merlin’s taste. And yet, when he answered, his voice was the same tone.  
“I understand what Sam means to you, I do. But why do you care so much about me?” Lucifer smiled, slowly.  
“Because, once upon a time, _you_ cared about _me_.” Lucifer replied. “You used to pray to me, every night. And I would always listen. Because, more than anything, you wanted someone to listen. To understand your immortality. And who better to understand than me?” Now, Lucifer was towering over Merlin, even though there were only two or three inches between Merlin and Nick. It was all in the Archangel’s presence.   
“You understood, and I’ll always be grateful for that, but why are you starting the Apocalypse?” Merlin asked. Lucifer put a hand to Merlin’s cheek, and Merlin didn’t have the courage to step away. His hand was cold, something Merlin wasn’t surprised about.   
“It’s the only way, Merlin. Michael won’t listen to reason, he’ll only listen to Heaven’s plan. He doesn’t _understand_!” Merlin flinched, and Lucifer noticed. The anger on his face drained away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Lucifer stepped back a few paces, leaving Merlin room to breathe. “I should be going, now. But remember, if you ever call for me, if you ever pray to me again, I’ll answer. Because, now, I can.”  
“I won’t let you leave.” Merlin said, braver than he felt. In truth, he wanted to do one of three things. Run away and get his boys the hell out of there, accept Lucifer’s offer and surrender, or go back in time to when the most he had to worry about was some random sorcerer trying to assassinate Arthur. But he wouldn’t do any of those things. Not only did Arthur and the Winchesters need him, but the world needed as much help as it could get. “I’m going to stay here, and I’m going to fight you.” He announced. Lucifer gave him a look full of sorrow.   
“I’m sorry.” He repeated. He lifted a hand and forced Merlin out the window. But Merlin didn’t feel any pain. Even the now broken glass didn’t cut him. Lucifer had obviously meant it. He wouldn’t hurt Merlin. But, somehow, being protected by Satan was worse than being attacked by him.  
Merlin hit the ground, but once again, he didn’t feel it. He landed almost gently. As soon as he did, Lucifer’s presence from the street vanished, signaling Lucifer’s departure. “Dammit.” Merlin muttered.  
“Merlin!” He heard the shouts of Sam, Dean, and Arthur. Their faces appeared around him, all concerned.   
“Merlin, come on. Say something.” Arthur said.  
“Help me up, you morons.” Merlin wheezed. The three of them looked instantly relieved. “Dean, you’re driving.” Arthur stood and helped Merlin to his feet and the four of them half-ran back to the Impala. Merlin and Arthur slid into the backseat while Dean jammed the keys into the ignition.  
“What happened up there?” Sam asked, gently.   
“Lots of stuff.” Merlin answered. “Good and bad news, Sam. The Devil has both of us under his protection.”  
“Why would he do that?” Sam asked, puzzled. Merlin groaned and sat back, thoroughly drained. He was tired, and he just wanted this Apocalypse to be over.  
“I’ll tell you later. Right now, I need a goddamn drink.”


	5. Simple Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Lynyrd Skynyrd)

Merlin poured whiskey into his glass purely for formality’s sake. He would drink the entire bottle. Still, it was nice to maintain the image of propriety.  
Merlin couldn’t believe it, now that the adrenaline had passed. Nick had said yes to Lucifer. What could he have been thinking? What had Lucifer tempted him with? Even after Merlin had warned him, Nick had _still_ agreed to be Lucifer’s bitch. Merlin would _definitely_ need the entire bottle.  
Arthur sat across from Merlin, looking awkward. Sam and Dean sat on the two remaining chairs, across from each other. No one had said a word since Merlin had gotten the whiskey. They each had their own individual beers, too afraid to ask for any of Merlin’s alcohol. With good reason.  
“I loved him.” Merlin finally said. Alcohol took a lot longer to affect him, so he was still loathsomely sober. “We may not have been soulmates or anything, but I loved him. Still do, to be honest. But he wanted a family, and I didn’t think I could give that to him, seeing as my boys were already grown.” Merlin knocked back another glass, the amber liquid burning down his throat, and poured the last of the bottle. There were two on standby, anyways. It didn’t escape Merlin’s notice when Arthur took four long gulps of beer.   
“We agreed to stay friends after we split, and we did. We weren’t close, but it was something. I went to his wedding. It was hard. I went to the funeral for his family. It was worse than anything I could’ve imagined.” He tried hard not to think about how Nick had cried on his shoulder the entire night. He tried not to remember rubbing his friend’s back in solidarity, knowing all too well what it was like to lose family. “And now…now he’s a fucking vessel.” Merlin spat, bitterly, and chugged his glass. “Not a very sturdy one, either. Lucifer will burn through him in about six months, probably less.” Merlin bent down and retrieved the second bottle, cracking it open.   
“Stupid Nick. You had to go and die on me, didn’t you?” Merlin muttered, mot to himself than anyone else. Though it was true, Nick technically wasn’t dead yet, he would be. And Merlin wasn’t looking forward to when it inevitably happened. “Fuck it.” Merlin threw the bottle cap away and drank directly from the bottle. Arthur’s eyes widened. He didn’t know about Merlin’s new alcohol tolerance.  
“Shouldn’t you slow down a bit, Merlin?” He suggested. Merlin slammed the bottle on the table. If he’d slammed it any harder, the glass would’ve shattered.   
“Don’t tell me what to do, pretty boy. I’m the one who’s got an ex possessed by the Devil.” Merlin snapped. He picked back up the bottle and took another long drink.  
“Alright, you’re grieving, so I’ll forgive you that. But you shouldn’t speak to me that way.” Arthur said. This time, Merlin actually _did_ shatter the bottle. There wasn’t much left in it, anyways.   
Shards of glass stuck out of Merlin’s hand, making blood drip onto the table. “You know what, Arthur? I don’t care. You’re not a king anymore and we’re in _my_ home, so I can speak to you however I damn well please! And, you know, I have a goddamn _right_ to be angry with you! You treated me like garbage my entire time in Camelot! Yes, I know I was ‘just a manservant’, which wasn’t even true and you know it, but you were an ungrateful prat! I can count on one hand the amount of times you said ‘thank you’, one of which you said _right before you died in my arms_! You left me alone for _1500 years_ , and I woke up every day wishing I was dead! And you come back into my life like nothing’s changed, like you can still address me like a servant! That isn’t how life works anymore, Arthur!”   
Merlin stood, pushing his chair back so roughly that it fell over. He grabbed the third bottle, flashed Arthur his middle finger, and stormed off, all the while muttering obscenities that would make a sailor blush under his breath.

 

Arthur stared after Merlin and flinched as the door banged shut. The gentle warlock had never spoken like that before. Arthur had gotten used to witty retorts and insults under the breath, but full blown screaming like that? That was new.   
Arthur took a long drink of the alcohol in front of him. It had been called ‘beer’ by Sam and Dean. It tasted pretty nice, and he liked it quite a bit.  
“It’ll be fine, Arthur. He’ll go cool off for a while then you two can work it out.” Sam said, kindly.  
“It’s not like he’s wrong.” Arthur said, wiping his mouth. “I didn’t treat him well. And…I’m beginning to regret it.”  
“Well, you should.” Dean said.  
“Dean.” Sam scolded.  
“No, Sam, I’m gonna say what I’ve gotta say. Arthur, you treated him like shit. I can see it in your eyes, you care about him, but you better start making up for it. Or else you’re gonna lose him. Now, don’t get me wrong. I hate you. I hate everything you stand for and everything you’ve done to Merlin, and if I had it my way, I’d kick your ass into next Tuesday. But you’re important to Merlin, which means I don’t wanna see you go. So, go out there and _fix it_. Got it?” Dean lectured.  
“Got it.” Arthur repeated. He had sudden flashbacks of the cook scolding him when he was a child for attempting to steal pastries.   
He stood from his seat and went after Merlin, who’d gone outside.   
“Merlin!” He called. He saw a ball of fire shoot into the night sky and quickly located the source.  
The warlock was in one of the oddly shaped cars ( _truck_ , his memory supplied), empty bottle beside him, staring up at the stars. “Merlin.” He said.  
“Want a bit more of a tongue-lashing, _sire_?” The word was said with venom, and Arthur flinched.  
“No, I wanted to…apologize.”  
“Has Hell frozen over?” Merlin asked. Arthur climbed up to sit beside the warlock’s sprawled out form.  
“I don’t believe it has, but I’m not the best person to ask.” Arthur answered. Merlin let out a small chuckle. “Merlin, I treated you badly, and for that, I’m sorry. I know this may be too small of a gesture, far too late, but I’d like to make it up to you. In any way I can. And it will be difficult to change, but I’d like to try. Otherwise, I think Dean might use my head as a trophy.” Merlin laughed, heartily, at that.  
“The protective streak on that boy is a mile wide.” He said. He sat up, his head looking a bit loose on his neck. His cheeks were rosy and his eyes were unfocused. Arthur had seen the beginnings of drunkenness during Merlin’s second bottle, but after the third, he must’ve been completely sloshed. “You want to make it up to me, Arthur?” His words were slurring, slightly, but Arthur jumped on them. They were like a rope being dangled to him over a precarious ledge.  
“Yes, absolutely.” He answered, eagerly.  
“Than kiss me.” Merlin giggled at his own words. Arthur took a second to process this.  
“What?” Arthur asked, dumbly. Merlin crawled over to him and draped his arms over Arthur’s shoulders.  
“Kiss me. Or can you not understand the concept of kissing?” Merlin asked, rolling his eyes.   
“No, Merlin, I won’t do that.” Arthur said, firmly. Merlin put his full weight into Arthur’s arms, but Arthur had braced himself.   
“C’mon, Arthur…” Merlin whined. “I just wanna feel something. Something other than guilt or anger or sadness.” Arthur’s heart hurt at the words, but he held his ground.  
“I won’t take advantage of you while you’re drunk.” Arthur said, slightly uncomfortable.   
“Stow your chivalry, sire. I want it, I’m pretty sure you want it, so why not?”   
“If you still want ‘it’ when you’re sober, we’ll talk.” Arthur awkwardly jumped out of the truck and helped Merlin down. He picked the warlock up like a maiden. “Come on, let’s take you back to your boys.”   
“And I thought we had a moment, before.” Merlin said, petulantly.  
“When was this supposed moment?” Arthur asked.  
“Back in the bathroom! I almost kissed you! Or you almost kissed me, I’m not sure.”   
Merlin began to babble, senselessly, and Arthur ignored him, for the most part.   
“Let’s just get you back to your boys.”


	6. Too Daze Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Billy Squier)

Merlin woke up with a near-blinding headache. He shut his eyes, tightly, in an attempt to get the pounding under control. Sitting up, as slow as he possibly could, he rubbed at his temples in vain. He opened one eye, wincing at the sudden light.   
On his nightstand sat a glass of water, a bottle of Advil, and a note from Dean.   
_You’ll need these - D_  
“Kiddo, you’re a saint.” Merlin muttered. His magic kept him from feeling nausea from a hangover, but it made the headache ten times worse. He opened the bottle and popped a few pills into his mouth, washing it down with the entire glass of water.   
A smell hit his nose, seemingly sent from Heaven. And the smell was getting closer. Arthur walked into the room an egg and hash brown burrito, Merlin’s hangover food of choice.   
“I died. I died and there was a clerical error and I’m in Heaven.” Merlin said. Arthur gave a laugh, which was grating on Merlin’s ears.  
“Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on who you asked, you’re still amongst the living. You wouldn’t have believed it, though, if you’d seen yourself last night.” Arthur replied. Merlin groaned and buried his face in his hands.  
“Oh, God…” Merlin said. He lifted his face when he felt Arthur’s weight settle on the bed. He squinted at the offered food. “How did you make the burrito?”  
“Sam taught me. He’s spent most of the morning teaching me how to use modern technology.” Arthur said, eyes shining like a child’s.   
“Not Dean?” Merlin asked.  
“No, Dean hates me.” Arthur replied, simply.   
“I’m sure he doesn’t.”  
“He told me last night, in plain words, that he hates me and that if he had it his way, he’d, what was it? Right. ‘Kick my ass into next Tuesday’.” Arthur said. Merlin gave a laugh, and it was worth the throbbing in his skull.   
“That sounds like Dean.” Merlin said, still laughing slightly. His face fell and he thought for a moment. “I’m sorry I exploded on you, last night.” Merlin said, earnestly. Arthur smiled and looked down.  
“No, it’s fine. Honestly, Merlin, I needed to hear it. I’ve treated you horribly, and I need to make up for it.” Arthur admitted. Merlin was momentarily surprised at the concession, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want Arthur to take back what he said. Instead, he tried to scrape up memories of the night before, anything after yelling at Arthur, but he drew a blank.  
“Did I…did I say anything else to you, last night?”  
“You did. You tried to kiss me.” Arthur said. Merlin blanched. Even though the memories of that moment were gone, he could still be embarrassed about what his drunk self did. “And told me to ‘stow my chivalry’ when I said I wouldn’t take advantage of you.”  
“Oh, God…” Merlin repeated. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was completely wasted, and I must’ve been out of my head.” Arthur held up a hand to stop Merlin’s rambling.  
“Merlin, I understand. I’ve done…regrettable things when drunk.” Arthur paused, obviously reliving his mistakes. Merlin had been _there_ for most of those mistakes, and could testify to the grimace on Arthur’s face. “It’s fine. If you’d like to forget it ever happened, than I will completely understand and do the same.” Arthur said, sincerely.  
“Yes, please. I just want to forget I was ever that sloshed.” Merlin answered him.  
“Done.” Arthur smiled at the end of the word. Merlin paused.  
“I just can’t believe you brought me breakfast…” Merlin trailed off, quirking an eyebrow. The pills were starting to kick in, meaning he could move his face without starting to see pain. Arthur matched Merlin’s expression.  
“Would you like me to take it away?” Arthur asked, humor in his voice.  
“Nooooo.” Merlin whined. Arthur laughed out loud at Merlin’s pathetic denial. “I might be a little drunk, still.”  
“Oh, do you think so?” Arthur asked, sarcastically.  
“Shut up, you prat.” For a second, Merlin could swear he wasn’t in 2009 anymore. For a second, he could believe they were in Camelot and Arthur was about throw a jug at Merlin’s head. And a look at Arthur’s face showed he was thinking the same.  
“It is a bit… _surreal_ , isn’t it?” Arthur said, after a beat. Merlin frowned, confused.  
“What is?”  
“All of this.” Arthur gestured to the room as he spoke. Merlin gave a small smile.  
“It was, at first. But I got used to the world changing around me. It still sometimes hits me that I’m not in Camelot anymore, but it’s not like I don’t have a home here. I’ve got my house, I’ve got my job, I’ve got my boys. I’m used to life.” Merlin picked up the plate with the burrito and sat back. “Of course, there’s not gonna be much life left if this bloody apocalypse goes through.” Merlin took what could only be described as an angry bite from his burrito.  
“That reminds me, Merlin. What is this apocalypse? I know I was…brought back for it, but I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing.” Arthur said. Merlin gave him a look.  
“Bringing me food, engaging in philosophical conversations, asking questions in a polite manner…are you dying or am I?” Merlin mumbled. Arthur narrowed his eyes.  
“I’m serious, _Mer_ lin.” Arthur said. Merlin put his hands up in surrender.  
“Alright, fine, fine. What do you want to know about it?”  
“Everything.”

 

It took three hours for Arthur to fully understand their situation. Christianity was baffling, to say the least, and for Arthur to understand the apocalypse, he had to learn about Christianity.  
Merlin had explained it around mouthfuls of his burrito. Arthur found it amusing, rather than disgusting and annoying. In fact, he’d almost found it…endearing? Thinking that about Merlin was odd, but everything was odd now. It was like he was dropped in the middle of the ocean on a one-man boat. And Merlin was what was keeping him afloat. Dean was certainly no help.   
Arthur walked down the stairs and saw Sam and Dean talking to a man in a tan jacket. It was longer than any other jacket Arthur had seen, more like a cloak. He’d learn the word later.   
“And who are you?” Arthur asked, wary of the newcomer. The man, who hadn’t noticed Arthur’s presence, turned and saw him. His bright blue eyes widened, significantly.  
“King Arthur. I was unaware you’d risen.” The man said, in a gravelly, low tone.  
“Yes, well, I have, and you haven’t answered my question.” Arthur said, crossing his arms. He was attempting to feel kingly in a shirt called a ‘flannel’, and finding it a bit difficult.  
“Arthur, calm down, he’s mostly harmless.” Merlin said, from the top of the stairs. “To us, that is.”  
Merlin joined Arthur on the bottom floor, sporting none of the original black Arthur had seen him in. Brown jacket, brown boots, and a blue shirt. It was oddly similar to what he wore in Camelot. He wasn’t wearing any of the make-up Arthur had seen that first day, either. Arthur raised a brow at this. Merlin noticed.  
“I didn’t like it, anymore.” Merlin said, shrugging his shoulders.  
“Are your choices always so fickle?” Arthur teased.  
“For your information, turnip-head, I’d only liked that stuff for a month. I’ve liked this stuff way longer. I’ve got time, may as well experiment.” Merlin walked to the man with the odd jacket. “This is probably the only angel on our side at the moment. Arthur, meet Castiel.” Arthur nodded.  
“Pleasure.” Arthur said, simply.  
“That’s all you’re gonna get from him. What’s going on, Castiel?” Merlin asked.   
“Tell him what you told us.” Dean said. Castiel looked to Merlin.  
“I’m going to find God.” Castiel said, earnestly. Merlin burst out laughing.  
“You’re kidding, right?” Merlin said, in between fits of laughter. His laughter died. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried for centuries, knock, knock, knockin’ on Heaven’s door, an you know what? Never got an answer.” Merlin put his hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “You can look, Cas, you can, and I’ll wish you luck. But I doubt it’s gonna happen.”   
Just then, as Castiel turned to continue his business with Sam and Dean, Merlin got a call.   
Arthur followed Merlin into the kitchen, where his phone was. Sam had taught him all about phones, and Arthur found them truly fascinating. Merlin answered the phone.  
“What?” He asked into the phone. “Rufus?” That was a new name to Arthur. “What? I can’t hear you! The connection’s bad! Rufus?! …Colorado? River Pass, Colorado?!” Merlin held the phone away from his ear. Gunshots echoed through the phone and into the kitchen. Gunshots. That was also something Arthur had to get used to. The connection on the phone cut out. Merlin looked up at Arthur, eyes a little wide.   
“Guess we’re going to River Pass.”


	7. Ramblin' Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: The Allman Brothers)

“So, who is this ‘Rufus’ character?” Arthur asked, once again in the backseat of the Impala. Merlin was sitting next to Dean, who was driving.   
“His name’s Rufus Turner. We met about thirty years ago on a hunt and we’ve been friends, if you could call it that, ever since.” Merlin answered.  
“Hunting’s been around for thirty years?” Arthur was a bit disbelieving. He thought it was newer.  
“Oh, yeah. The monsters we hunt now existed back in Camelot’s time, but I only learned about vampires and werewolves and the like in the 1600s.” Merlin said. Sam gave him an odd look, like he’d never heard Merlin say this. “Oh, right, I learned because vampires had overrun London. I panicked and accidentally lit the Great Fire.” Sam’s jaw fell open at Merlin’s explanation.  
“I thought that was started in a bakery.” Dean argued.  
“So sue me for eating my weight in bread!” Merlin snapped. He looked out the window, obviously done talking. But Arthur wasn’t.  
“If monsters, other than the ones created by magic, were around in our time, why did we never have to face them?” Arthur questioned. He would’ve remembered killing a demon.  
“I wondered that, myself. When I came over to America after World War II, I searched through the Men of Letters files for the answer.” Merlin answered  
“Men of Letters?” Dean asked, confused.“Later. I learned that the entire city and the castle was protected from monsters by the sorcerers who’d lived there before the Purge. Warded against angels and demons, silver in every brick for the shifters and the werewolves, spells in the walls designed to amplify light to keep out the vamps. Didn’t you ever wonder why Camelot was so bright?” Merlin said.  
“That’s actually pretty brilliant.” Sam said.   
“I agree.” Merlin said, nodding. A silence fell over the car, and Arthur reflected on the information.   
Though Arthur was technically older than Merlin, Merlin had _years_ on all of them in the car. It was odd, knowing that Merlin had seen more than any of them ever would.  
Someday, Arthur vowed, he’d sit down and ask Merlin everything he’d seen. Arthur wanted to hear all of it.

 

River Pass was eerily quiet when they arrived. Merlin didn’t like a bit of it. The only sound was a car blasting classic rock. Merlin recognized the song. ‘Spirit in the Sky’. He was there the day it was birthed.   
When they came across the car that was blaring music, Dean turned it off, and the town fell silent.   
“Well, this isn’t creepy at all.” Merlin remarked. “Split up. Sam, Dean, go that way,” Merlin gestured in a vague direction. “Arthur and I will go the other way.” Merlin grabbed Arthur’s wrist and dragged him away from the Winchesters.   
“Where are we going?” Arthur asked, after the boys were out of ear-shot.   
“We’re going this way.” Merlin said. “We’re looking for Rufus, and hopefully we’ll find him alive. Although, I’ve seen him look worse than death…” They were silent for a time, neither quite finding the words to say anything, walking slowly to avoid any listening ears. Merlin released Arthur’s wrist, and instantly missed the contact.   
The town was too quiet. Silence made Merlin restless and anxious. He used to treasure every silent second back in Camelot, because it meant no one was attempting to murder Arthur. But ever since Arthur’s…well, he’s feared silence. Silence didn’t mean the absence of something in the dark. Silence meant that the thing in the dark was stalking you.   
“Merlin…what have you seen?” Arthur asked from behind Merlin, trailing just behind.  
“What have I seen? Mostly houses.” Merlin replied, shrugging.“Not what I meant. I mean…in your life. What have you seen?” Arthur tried again. Merlin smiled, bitterly.  
“Too much.” Merlin readied his pistol, knowing full well he would likely need it more and more in the coming months. Arthur pulled his sword out of the sheath hung on his belt.   
“I suppose I should ask, what is the best thing you’ve seen?” Arthur said, glancing around. Merlin smiled, sincerely this time.  
“I could tell you tales of warriors and diplomats, of emperors and queens and kings, of kingdoms rising and falling, of Heaven and Hell and everything in between. But the most miraculous things that have ever happened to me seem simple in comparison.”   
“Explain.” Arthur demanded. Merlin rolled his eyes. His friend would likely never lose the royal arrogance that came with being a prince-turned-king.  
“What sticks out in my memory isn’t the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, it’s of a six-year-old Dean handing _me_ a father’s day card instead of his biological father. It isn’t seeing the first printing press being invented, it’s of Sam trying a mango for the first time. It’s soccer games and crushes and the memory of them playing knights in my backyard, reminding me so much of you and Gwaine. Kings come and go, empires rise and fall, but what I’ll remember forever is my boys.” Merlin said. He knew Arthur didn’t understand some of the words being said, but the tangent wasn’t for him. It was for Merlin, and Merlin had the feeling Arthur understood that.   
That was when everything went to hell. Suddenly, Arthur and Merlin were pressed up against a nearby wall by none other than Rufus Turner and Jo Harvelle. Jo had Arthur in a stranglehold, while Merlin’s throat was being pressed down by Rufus.   
“Time to die, you black-eyed bastard.” Jo snarled. Merlin gathered some air just as Jo pulled back her knife to strike.  
“Joanna Beth Harvelle, put down Arthur _this instant_.” Merlin commanded. Jo shot Merlin a confused look, looking between him and Arthur before letting the former king go.   
“Merlin, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. This town is overrun by demons, and I thought you two were…” Jo explained. Rufus let Merlin go, releasing the pressure on Merlin’s windpipe. Merlin rubbed his throat.  
“Jesus, Ruf, are you trying to kill me?” Merlin snapped.  
“Now, Merlin, we both know you can’t die by my hand. I figured that out the hard way on that hunt in Tacoma.” Rufus replied, jokingly. Merlin remembered that hunt. Their friendship had almost broken on that hunt, both being so fed up with each other they were willing to murder each other. Merlin grinned and embraced his old friend. Merlin pulled away.  
“Arthur, I’d like to introduce you to Jo Harvelle, the daughter of some of the best hunters in the US, and Rufus Turner, the stubborn clotpole that refuses to die.” Merlin introduced. Jo gave an embarrassed smile. Arthur stuck his hand out to Rufus, but instead of taking it, Rufus smacked Arthur in the face.  
Arthur stumbled back, rubbing his face, entirely surprised. “That’s for putting Merlin through hell. I’m the only one allowed to give the old bastard a hard time.” Rufus lingered for a moment. “Come on. We’ve got a hideout.” Rufus began leading the way, Jo just behind. Merlin went to Arthur’s side.  
“Are you alright? Rufus can be a bit _protective_ sometimes.” Merlin explained.  
“Yes, I’m fine. Though, I’m starting to realize, a lot of people are protective of you.”  
“Ah, yes, well. I’m a very likable person.”


	8. Bad Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Bad Company)

The hideout Rufus mentioned was armed to the teeth, and it made Arthur nervous. He had been there for a few hours, sitting awkwardly on a couch while Merlin paced the floor. Merlin was making him even more nervous.  
“ _Mer_ lin, if you’re so concerned about two capable hunters, then you can go get them.” Arthur suggested. Merlin shot him a glare. “Why don’t you just use magic?  
“Not so simple, I’m afraid. You see, Arthur, the Old Religion is tied to the Earth. The Earth is preparing for the Apocalypse with a capital ‘A’, meaning, it’s ready to die. I don’t have much magic at the moment.” Merlin explained.  
“I thought you _were_ magic.” Arthur argued, confused. Merlin gave him a sad look, making Arthur’s blood run cold and his heart stop. “You’re running out of time.” Arthur said.  
“I am. If the Earth dies, I die with it. I had a few near-death experiences during World War II, especially after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, but this is it. This is what will kill me if we don’t stop it.” Merlin said. Arthur didn’t know what ‘Hiroshima’ or ‘Nagasaki’ were, but the way Merlin said the words, Arthur was certain it wasn’t a good thing.   
A bit of silence fell over them, where Arthur chose his next words carefully.   
“Have you told Sam and Dean?” Arthur asked.  
“No. The way those two take things on, I’d only make it harder for any of us to work. I can’t have them fussing over me every single time I so much as sneeze, like I know they will. Please don’t say anything.” Merlin finished his sentence by beginning to pace again. Arthur stood and placed himself in the way of Merlin’s stride. Merlin bumped into him, but Arthur didn’t budge. Instead, he wrapped Merlin in a tight hug.  
“I’m sorry.” Arthur said, rubbing Merlin’s back.  
“For what, me dying? Nothing you can do about that, dollop-head.”  
“For wasting the time we had when you weren’t borrowing it.” Arthur pulled back, but kept his hands on Merlin’s shoulders. “I was horrible to you. I threw things at you, I insulted you, I took you for granted. For that, I’m truly sorry.”  
“Did you hit your head climbing out of the lake?” Merlin said, small, uncomfortable smile on his face. Arthur rolled his eyes.  
“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur quipped, with no real heat behind the words. Merlin smiled at the familiar words, a true one this time.   
Before Arthur could even realize what he was doing (before he could stop himself), he was leaning in. Merlin’s eyes were sliding shut. Almost, almost, _almost_ …  
The door swung open, making Merlin startle away from Arthur. Rufus and Jo hauled in a very unconscious Sam.   
“Sam!” Merlin exclaimed, running to his boy’s side, putting both hands on Sam’s face. “Sam!”   
“I wouldn’t bother, Merls.” Rufus said.  
“He’s a demon.” Jo elaborated. Merlin stood, fixing both of them with a glare that could freeze a dragon in its tracks.   
“Like hell he is.” Merlin snarled. “I recognize when my boy is my boy. There isn’t a single demon in this house, and bringing Sam inside didn’t change a thing.”  
“Merlin, he had black eyes.” Jo tried. Arthur knew it was futile. If Merlin said that Sam wasn’t a demon, then Sam wasn’t a demon. Even if he was, Merlin wouldn’t believe it until the last second.  
“You’re being played. Simple magic, really. An amateur witch could pull of an illusion spell to change the colors of one’s eyes.” Merlin snapped. “My boy is not a demon, and I’d bet you money that no one in this bloody town is, either! You know what I sensed when I walked into this town? Humans. All humans. And something…other.”  
“Other?” Arthur prompted. Merlin shook his head.“I’ve never seen anything like it. But I’m guessing that’s what’s causing the demon-eyes.” Merlin proposed.  
“Why are you only mentioning this now?” Rufus demanded.  
“It’s a theory! And you hadn’t hurt my boy before.” Merlin argued. Merlin knelt beside Sam and smacked his face, lightly. “Up and at ‘em, Sam. Rise and shine.” Merlin attempted. Sam’s head lolled to the side. “Come, on Sam! Let’s have you, lazy daisy!” Merlin said, chipper as can be. Arthur laughed aloud at the memory. Sam’s eyes began to blink open, and sure enough, they weren’t black. They were still indiscernible in color, but definitely not of the demon hue. “Welcome back, kiddo!” Merlin greeted. Sam blinked at him for a moment, trying to get his bearings. Once he saw Jo and Rufus, he shuffled around, fully awake, attempting to put himself between Merlin and the other two hunters.  
“Merlin, they’re demons!” Sam said.  
“They’re not. I would know.” Merlin assured, gentle in his tone of voice. He began stroking Sam’s hair in a way that probably should be patronizing, but came off as paternal. Sam’s muscles relaxed, slightly. “No one in this town is a demon. Something is at work here, and it isn’t Hell’s agents.”  
“Okay. So, if it’s not demons…what the hell is it?” Sam asked, significantly calmer. Merlin sent a glance to Arthur, biting his lip. It was clear. He had no idea.

 

Dean and Merlin had figured out the truth nearly simultaneously, as it turned out. War. The Horseman of the Apocalypse.   
Arthur could barely comprehend the scope of it all. Everything had been thrust upon him so quickly, he barely had time to digest one piece of information before another was thrown at him.  
Currently, the four of them, after being reunited, were tracking War from behind a building. He was heading to his car, a shiny red thing Arthur was sure Dean could say the exact make of.   
Merlin lifted his hand. Arthur’s eyes widened, sensing what Merlin was about to do. Before he could even begin to stop it, Merlin’s eyes flashed gold.   
War stopped in his tracks, seemingly frozen. “Dammit.” The Horseman muttered. Sam and Dean ran out from behind the building. Merlin slumped against the building, breathing hoarse and shallow. Arthur braced Merlin as best he could.  
“Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed.   
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Merlin assured, half-heartedly, before doubling over in a coughing fit.  
“Merlin!” Dean shouted, coming towards them. “What the hell?!”   
“It’s nothing.” Merlin said. However, the Winchesters clearly didn’t believe him, as he went into another bout of hacking his lungs out. Arthur, seeing no alternative, picked Merlin up as though he weighed nothing. “Arthur!” Merlin protested, only to cut himself off.   
“Shall we go?”

 

“You can’t carry on like this, Merlin.” Arthur said, gently. Merlin, very clearly, didn’t want to hear it.  
The two of them were in the backseat of the Impala, Merlin turned petulantly to the window. “Like hell I can’t.” Merlin mumbled.  
“ _Mer_ lin.” Arthur implored, hoping he could get the message across.   
“Oh, bite me.” Merlin snapped, before coughing violently into his hand. Arthur rubbed Merlin’s back, offering comfort if nothing else. Merlin didn’t stop for sixteen seconds. Arthur counted. They were the longest sixteen seconds of his life.   
When Merlin finally did stop, he pulled his hand back and revealed the one thing Arthur really didn’t want to see. Blood.  
“You are _dying_ , Merlin! Can’t you see that? The Earth is dying, and so are you. I won’t stop until you’re safe from this threat, but until that time, you have to be careful. I can’t lose you. I almost did once.” The last words slipped from Arthur’s mouth before he could catch them.   
“What are you talking about?” Merlin asked, squinting at him, suspiciously. Arthur realized there was no backtracking and decided to fess up.  
“The year we met, you drank from the poisoned goblet for me. The Morteus flower.” Arthur waited for Merlin’s nod of recognition before continuing. “I was sitting in the cells below the castle, waiting for the flower to be delivered to you. My father crushed it. He dropped it outside of the bars. I stretched for God only knows how long trying to reach for it. You saw the parts of skin that were rubbed raw.” Arthur explained. Merlin’s eyes lit up in understanding.  
“You never told me what those were about.” Merlin said, more to himself than anything.  
“I’d only known you for, what, three weeks? I was already unwilling to let you die.” Arthur said, resisting the urge to bury his face in shame. He knew Merlin would persist until he knew the full truth. _Then_ Arthur could go crawl in a hole and die. “I’d do it again. And isn’t that what I’m doing now?”   
“Why?” Merlin asked. Arthur frowned.  
“You know the answer.”   
“I need to hear it.” Merlin persisted.  
“Merlin…” Arthur trailed off.  
“Arthur…” Merlin matched his tone. Arthur looked out the window, praying for all this to be over quickly, then for some Heavenly being to smite him. Just then, Dean opened the door and climbed into the car. Sam was strangely absent. “Where’s Sam?” Merlin asked.  
“Gone. He’s takin’ some time off.” Dean said. His tone suggested finality. Merlin frowned.  
“You’re saying he’s quitting?” Merlin asked.  
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I’m saying.” Dean answered. Arthur felt anger tighten in his stomach. During the _Apocalypse_? With Merlin’s _life_ at stake?   
Dean started the car and began to drive.  
“Did he say where he was going?” Merlin asked. Dean didn’t answer. He just drove.  
And Arthur was left to wonder if they’d ever be able to save Merlin’s life, with all the family drama surrounding the Winchester boys.


	9. (Don't Fear) The Reaper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Blue Oyster Cult)

“If you don’t tell Dean, I will.” It had gotten to the point where Arthur had to threaten this.   
Merlin was two shades paler than even the palest human was, every movement was shaky, he could barely breathe without having a coughing fit.   
“You won’t listen to me, but you might listen to him.” Arthur said. Merlin glared at Arthur, witheringly.  
“Do _not_ tell Dean, Arthur Pendragon, or else I will send you straight back to that lake.” Merlin threatened, before doubling over, coughing.  
“Yes, I’m truly terrified.” Arthur said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Arthur sat on the bed next to Merlin, worry making his heart stutter.   
Merlin drew in a ragged breath when he stopped coughing and slumped against Arthur, exhausted.  
“If I were still your king, I’d order you to tell Dean then stay put.” Arthur said, rubbing Merlin’s back.  
“Yes, but you’re not anymore, you giant prat.” Merlin muttered, bitterly.  
“Are you calling me _fat_?” Arthur asked, incredulous, desperate to get their old connection back.   
“If you weren’t, than that wouldn’t be your first thought, would it?” Merlin shot back, slight smile on his face.  
Merlin attempted to stand.   
“Where are you going?” Arthur demanded.  
“To do _something_. I don’t care what.” Merlin replied.  
“No, you’re not.” Arthur said, grabbing Merlin’s wrist and pulling him back down onto the bed.  
“I can’t just stay in bed all day!” Merlin protested. It sounded much more like whining than anything else. Arthur gave him an unimpressed look.  
“Merlin, you have to. You’re dying, you can barely stand.” Arthur pointed out. Merlin scowled, and didn’t reply for a long moment. Then, his face gained an enlightened look.  
“Yes, as I am now, I’m useless. _But._ I have an idea.” Merlin said, in a tone of voice that Arthur only associated with horrible plans. Arthur sighed, realizing it would be futile to shut him down.  
“Let’s hear it, than.” Arthur said, defeated.   
“It’s risky, but I remember back in Camelot, Morgana sent a creature to me. An…Eancanah. It cut me off from my magic. It’s why I didn’t go with you to Camlann. It could buy me some more time. Like amputating a limb. Cut off the dead part to stop the infection spreading.” Merlin rushed out, mad glint in his eye.   
“Yes, but Merlin, you are magic. It’s like cutting out your heart instead of a limb, right?” Arthur said, worriedly. It wasn’t a horrible plan, but there was that one glaring flaw.  
“Yes, but either way, I’m going to die. At least I can stay out of bed for six months. Seven, if I’m lucky.” Merlin said, resigned.  
 _“Either way, I’m going to die.”_ The words hit Arthur like a punch to the stomach. Arthur stared at Merlin for a long time, stricken. He tried to take in every detail of Merlin.  
“Arthur?” Merlin prompted.  
“Merlin…are you sure you’re alright with this?” Arthur asked.  
“What, dying? Had to happen sometime, mate.” Merlin said.  
“No, not that, being cut off from your magic.” Arthur amended.  
“I’m not happy about it, but I need to. For my boys. It’s the bloody _Apocalypse_. I can’t take a sick day in the Apocalypse, it isn’t gonna happen.” Merlin replied, no humor in his tone. Arthur could see how serious Merlin was about this. And it hurt his heart. But he couldn’t deny Merlin the opportunity to help his sons or the entire world. Arthur doubted he could deny Merlin anything.  
“Alright. How do we find this Eancanah?” Arthur asked. Merlin smiled.

 

Arthur was buried in books. Merlin’s library was packed full of books about creatures from Camelot’s time. Arthur had volunteered to do all the research, since Merlin couldn’t even get out of bed by himself. He was deteriorating too fast for Arthur’s liking. Arthur needed to act fast.   
Arthur finished another book and chucked it, too focused on what he was doing to set it down nicely.   
“Whoa, man! Watch where you’re throwin’ crap!” Arthur turned and saw Dean, standing in the doorway. Dean observed the chaos surrounding Arthur, the books and papers haphazardly strewn together in a system that only made sense to the man in the middle of it all. “What’s all this?” Dean asked, gesturing to the chaos.  
“Merlin needs me to research something.” Arthur said, trying to avoid giving away anything.  
“Why didn’t he ask me?” Dean asked, incredulous.  
“It’s not my place to answer that.” Arthur replied, shortly. Merlin was trusting him not to tell anyone what was going on, and he’d be damned if he betrayed that trust.   
It was evidently the wrong thing to say, as Dean only looked more suspicious.   
“Is he keeping something from me?” He asked, sounding like he already knew the answer. Arthur didn’t reply, instead searching through his stacks. “Anyways, just wanted to let him know, I’m gonna be gone for a while. Cas needs some help, and I owe him that much.” Dean said.  
“I’ll pass along the message.” Arthur answered, distractedly.  
“I’ll just tell him myself.” Dean said.  
“He’s not going to be happy.” Arthur muttered. Dean evidently had the hearing of a bat.  
“Why not?” Dean questioned. “Is he mad at me? Because, if he is, I didn’t think he was the passive aggressive type.” Dean raised his voice.  
“Don’t take that tone with me, Dean. I’m not antagonizing you.” Arthur snapped, finally looking Dean in the eyes.  
“Dean?” Came the hoarse voice of Merlin from the hallway. Dean finally looked at Merlin an his face fell. It was like he finally saw the state Merlin was in.  
The pale skin, the sheen of sweat, the shaking limbs. Arthur saw an illusion shatter in Dean’s eyes. Like he saw Merlin wasn’t invincible.   
“Merlin! What the hell happened?!” Dean demanded, rushing to Merlin’s side. Merlin shot Arthur a desperate look.  
“If you don’t tell him, I will. And I don’t think he’d like to hear it from me.” Arthur said, quietly. Merlin grumbled and turned to Dean.  
Arthur tuned the conversation out. He needed to find the Eancanah. He pulled another book from the nearest stack and dug in.  
About fifteen minutes later, he found it.   
“Merlin!” He exclaimed, standing up from his pile and presenting his book. Merlin took it, hands shaking, and read the pointed out paragraph.  
“Oh, I remember you…” Merlin muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Dean, go do whatever it is you do. Arthur and I are going to go find an Eancanah.” Merlin addressed Dean.  
“No.” Arthur denied, flatly. Merlin raised a playful eyebrow.  
“I didn’t take you for a coward, Arthur.” Merlin quipped.  
“No, _I’m_ going. You’re not. It’s better if I bring the creature back to you, rather than you going on the road.” Arthur said, no room for argument.   
“I’ll go with you.” Dean offered, but Arthur shook his head.  
“No. You said the angel, Castiel, needed help. Give it to him. I can go alone.” Arthur countered. Merlin guffawed.  
“Do you realize how many times you would’ve died without me?” Merlin muttered, mutinously.  
“I’m aware, _Mer_ lin. I’m sure I can figure out _one_ quest on my own.” Arthur admonished.   
“Fine. But if you get yourself killed, I’m not saving you.” Merlin was irritated, and pouting, but that wouldn’t stop Arthur.  
“I’m glad we’re agreed on that.” Arthur said, nodding. “I’ll start packing. Where do you keep your horses?”


	10. Highway to Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: AC/DC)  
> Side note: Work is now available in Chinese!  
> Chinese version can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570113/chapters/31143432

Arthur learned a fundamental truth in 2009. Motorcycles are fun.   
Dean had taught a very terse course in how to drive it, and Arthur had picked it up quickly. It felt nice to ride the machinery, and it went quicker than a horse did. Arthur wanted to go without it, but Merlin insisted upon a helmet.  
 _“If you die fighting something, fine. But I will_ not _allow the Once and Future King to die from a brain injury.”_  
As Arthur rode, he couldn’t help but feel a euphoria that drowned out his worry over Merlin. A feat he didn’t think possible. Riding that motorcycle, he felt like he could easily accomplish his goal and be back in time for supper. But he knew that thinking that way would get him killed faster than anything.  
In fact, it wasn’t long before the machine stopped working. Thankfully, the road was empty when it did, so Arthur’s beast wasn’t inconveniencing anyone but Arthur, himself.  
“Great.” Arthur muttered, bitterly. He was taught what to do. He checked the ‘gas’. The needle was pointing to the E, which meant empty.   
So, with a heavy sigh, Arthur began pulling the motorcycle, which had once been so freeing, to an outpost called a ‘gas station’.  
Every second of his journey, he felt was wasted. Merlin was deteriorating, and here he was, lugging a machine to an outpost. He felt ridiculous.  
It took the better part of an hour to find a gas station. When Arthur finally did find one, he nearly sobbed with relief. His arms were sore, his neck was baking in the sun, and he needed to go faster.   
Arthur pulled up to one of the ‘pumps’ and began to put gas into the machine, as he was instructed to by a very upset Dean. While he waited, Arthur looked around.  
The lot was deserted, save for one man sitting on the curb with a hat pulled over his eyes. Seeing nothing else to do while he waited, Arthur examined the man.  
Almost as if summoned, the man walked forward and joined Arthur. Arthur tensed, hand drifting towards the gun in his jacket. He’d had to leave Excalibur behind, since there was no way to smuggle it. Arthur felt naked without it.   
The man was quite short, being almost a head shorter than Arthur. Arthur couldn’t imagine the man standing next to Sam. The image almost made him laugh aloud.  
“Listen to me. I know who you are.” The man said. “Arthur Pendragon.” Arthur tensed.  
“How did you know that?” Arthur asked, blood running cold throughout his body.  
“You’re not gonna believe me, but a man’s life is at stake, so I’m not gonna lie. I’m Merlin’s guardian angel.” The man replied. Arthur guffawed.  
“You haven’t been doing a very good job of guarding him, than.” Arthur quipped.  
“I know. I know. But when the Old Religion is involved, I can’t interfere. With his life, that is.” The man looked up at Arthur’s face. His eyes were golden and spoke of mischief. Arthur caught his meaning.  
“You’re going to help me.” Arthur prompted. The man grinned.  
“Bingo bango, campadre.” The man replied. The words didn’t make sense, but Arthur guessed it was an affirmative.  
“You know where to find the Eancanah?” Arthur questioned.  
“Yep. And I’ll take ya straight to him. On one condition.” The man added. Arthur scowled.  
“I thought you were supposed to be Merlin’s guardian angel. Why would you need a condition?” Arthur asked, suspicious.  
“Look, I’m kinda on the run from Heaven. I’m doing all this off the books. What I want from you is absolute silence. You keep your mouth shut about me, and we won’t have any trouble.” The man proposed.  
“That’s it? Secrecy?” Arthur questioned, incredulous.  
“The whole thing, my friend. Like I said, I’m Merlin’s guardian angel. I care about him, much as it pains me to admit it. I’m not gonna let him go without a fight. But so that I can keep looking out for him and myself, you can’t tell anyone about me.” The man explained.   
“Alright. You have a deal.” Arthur held out his hand. “I’m Arthur. But you knew that already.” The man took Arthur’s hand, smiling.  
“They call me Gabriel.”

 

Merlin didn’t like intruders in his home. He thought that this would be a given, but with how many times his home was broken into, evidently it needed to be said.  
Merlin felt the presence of intruders the minute they stepped on his doormat. And he was incredibly unhappy about this.  
Unable to use his magic, Merlin stood from bed, forcing his illness to the back of his mind. He grabbed Excalibur, resting faithfully in the corner.  
“Alright, you bastards, come and get me.” Merlin muttered under his breath, knowing it would accomplish nothing.  
Merlin crept out of the room and looked around for the intruders. Multiple parties. Demons, if he was guessing. Probably looking for Sam or Arthur. Well, they’d be met with a pissed off warlock with a sword forged in dragon fire. Goodnight, demons.  
Merlin turned the corner in his hallway and was met with four demons. “Hi. I’m Merlin. Sorry things had to work out like this, but you trespassed on my property. In the words of old curmudgeons everywhere, _get the fuck off my lawn_.” Merlin said. Before the demos could even surge, he took a swing and slit one’s throat. Merlin watched the orange flicker before the demon fell to the floor, dead.   
Another, possessing a woman, ran forward, attempting to attack his other side. He stabbed her in the stomach before she could get too close and pulled out Excalibur.   
Two left. One disappeared, only temporarily, and the other ran forward. Merlin slit its throat and made a full circle with Excalibur, neatly slicing the Adam’s apple of the one trying to sneak up on him.   
Were Merlin at full strength, killing four meager demons would’ve been no trouble to him. As he was, he slumped against the wall and slid to the floor, wheezing. Spots began to form in front of his eyes, and he could feel another coughing fit coming on. His limbs began shaking violently, to the point where he could barely feel his hands.  
Merlin did the only thing he could think of doing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called the first person he could think of.  
Merlin only had to wait a few moments before the other person answered.   
“ _Merlin? What’s going on?_ ”   
“Sam…” Merlin said, hoarse. He wasn’t sure Sam had even heard him. The coughs he’d been suppressing came back in full force.  
“ _Merlin! Hey, what’s going on?! Merlin!_ ” Sam’s voice was panicked.  
“Help me.” Merlin choked out between coughs. He dropped his phone onto the ground, and it made a slight clattering sound on the hard wood. Sam was still on the other end.  
“ _Merlin! Hey! Answer me! MERLIN!_ ”   
Merlin tried to answer him. Truly, he tried. But before he could even lift his phone, Merlin passed out.


	11. Smoke On the Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Deep Purple)

Arthur ended up in something called a semi-truck. Gabriel’s semi-truck.  
Merlin’s (Arthur’s) motorcycle was resting in the back, which was good for Arthur’s peace of mind.  
Gabriel was currently drumming to a song playing on the radio. Arthur didn’t recognize the song, but he figured it would’ve been a miracle if he had.   
“Where is this Eancanah?!” Arthur shouted over the music. Gabriel didn’t seem to hear him, intent on tapping along to the music. “GABRIEL!” Arthur screamed. Gabriel jerked on the wheel, making the truck swerve and Arthur brace himself against the walls.   
“Jesus, Arthur!” Gabriel screeched, turning a knob on the front of the truck. The music quieted, still playing. “Give a guy a little warning next time, will ya?”  
“I tried to!” Arthur protested.   
“Well, aren’t you pleasant today?” Gabriel quipped. Arthur was taken aback by the words. He could’ve sworn he’d heard Merlin say the very same words on more than one occasion.   
“Forgive me if I’m not all sunshine and flowers, my best friend is dying and we’re the ones who can save him.” Arthur snapped, quickly regaining his footing in the conversation.  
“True.” Gabriel admitted. Silence fell over the cab before Arthur had the urge to speak.  
“Answer me something, Gabriel.” Arthur said.  
“I probably won’t, but alright.” Gabriel shot back.  
“If you’re Merlin’s guardian angel, than why did he pray to Lucifer?” Arthur asked.  
“Don’t pull any punches or anything.” Gabriel mumbled, bitterly. “Alright, look. Yeah, I’m his guardian angel. But I’m not gonna lie to you. I suck at my job. I don’t know why he prayed to Lucifer over me or Michael or my father because I was pretty deep in hiding back then.”  
“And you’re not anymore?” Arthur questioned, eyebrows raising in an imitation of Gaius.  
“No, no, I still am. But with the whole Apocalypse thing, I don’t gotta be as careful. It’s about time I made up for running out on him.” Gabriel said, turning the wheel a lot more calmly than last time.  
“You didn’t answer my original question.” Arthur said, after a moment.  
“Which was?” Gabriel prompted.  
“Where’s the Eancanah?” Arthur tried again. Gabriel smirked.  
“Funny you should mention that.” Gabriel said. The truck stopped, suddenly, and Arthur took his surroundings in.  
They had stopped in a forest, mysteriously. The sun shone down on the clearing they’d stopped in. In the corner of the clearing was a cave. And Arthur had the funny feeling that that was where the Eancanah rested.  
Arthur hopped out of the truck, fresh forest air hitting his nose immediately. Gabriel joined him within seconds.   
Arthur and Gabriel stood side-by-side at the mouth of the cave. “I take it we’re going in there.” Arthur said.  
“Oh, _we’re_ not. _You_ , on the other hand, are.” Gabriel corrected. Arthur wheeled around on Gabriel.  
“I thought you wanted to make it up to Merlin!” Arthur near-shouted.   
“And I do! But I can’t go in there. The Old Religion and angels aren’t exactly compatible. I physically _can’t_ go in there.” Gabriel explained, clearly controlling his irritation with Arthur. Arthur’s own temper cooled at the explanation.  
“I see. Then what do I do when I get in there?” Arthur asked. Gabriel produced, out of thin air, a bag and something very odd looking. Upon seeing Arthur’s confusion, Gabriel clarified:  
“It’s called a syringe. It’s filled with sedative. It’ll put the thing to sleep if you can get the needle into its skin. It’ll stay asleep long enough for you to bring it back to Merlin.” Gabriel handed over the objects and Arthur took them, gratefully. “This part is important, knuckle-head, so listen up. _Don’t kill it._ It’ll be useless to Merlin if it’s dead.” Gabriel said, gravely.  
“Can’t we just find another one?” Arthur asked, puzzled.  
“That’s the last one alive. They died out back in the 16th century.” Gabriel said, then smiled, ruefully. “No pressure.”   
Arthur grumbled and made the rude gesture Dean had taught him. The middle finger, as he’d called it. Gabriel just cracked up.  
Arthur stomped into the cave, pulling out what Sam had referred to as a flashlight. It was much more handy than the torches from Camelot’s day. Arthur activated the flashlight and began trekking through the caves.  
He had no idea how long he’d been walking. He felt like it could’ve been five minutes or five hours. He quickly lost track of time.   
Eventually, he came across his prize. An ugly looking creature similar to the illustration in the book back at Merlin’s house. The Eancanah.   
It was disgusting. Nearly flat to the ground with no face to see, it looked like an overgrown insect.   
Arthur stepped towards it, gently. It didn’t stir. He was one step away from it when it fled up the walls.   
The flashlight beam changed directions wildly as Arthur searched for the creature. Finally, he found it.   
Throwing caution to the wind, he ran to the Eancanah and stuck the syringe into its skin. He pushed at the end until all the liquid was emptied into its body. The Eancanah fell from the wall and onto the ground.  
Arthur put the syringe in his pocket and took out his gun. He nudged the disgusting creature into the bag without actually touching it and ran. He ran until he reached the cave mouth where Gabriel was sitting on a rock. Night had just fallen, the first stars appearing in the sky.   
Gabriel looked up upon Arthur’s return and grinned. “Hey! Thought you maybe died.” Gabriel said.  
“Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.” Arthur quipped, sardonically. Gabriel chuckled. Arthur was distracted when he heard a ringing sound. He remembered the phone Sam had set up for him that was currently resting in his pocket.  
Sam had been truly helpful in Arthur’s first days in the present. He’d set up a cell phone for Arthur and logged in the information of himself, Merlin, Dean, and Castiel.   
Looking at the screen now, he saw that Sam was contacting him. It took Arthur a moment to remember how to answer, but he eventually got it right.  
“Sam?” Arthur said into the phone.  
“ _Arthur, you gotta get back! I-I dunno what happened, but Merlin’s dying!_ ” Sam was frantic.   
“Dammit!” Arthur shouted. “I’ll be there soon. Keep him alive. You hear me?”   
“ _Right, yeah, right._ ” Sam hung up, as did Arthur. When Arthur looked back to Gabriel, the angel was eyeing him with interest.   
“What?” Arthur demanded, angry. Gabriel didn’t respond for once. Instead, he placed his fingers to Arthur’s forehead.  
Suddenly, Gabriel and the woods were gone. Instead, he saw Merlin’s house before him, the motorcycle sitting right beside him.   
“Thanks Gabriel.” Arthur muttered, certain the angel could hear him. Not wasting another second, Arthur ran inside, Eancanah in tow.


	12. Should I Stay or Should I Go

Merlin awoke feeling better than he had the entire week.  
Climbing out of bed with renewed vigor, he quickly dressed himself and left the room with a skip in his step.  
Reaching the living room, he found Sam curled on the couch and Arthur sitting on a chair, both asleep, soft snores coming from Arthur.  
It was a perfect moment, so, naturally, Merlin _had_ to ruin it.   
Merlin half-danced his way to the kitchen, setting out the large radio that he’d had since the ‘90s (from new). He turned it on to the classic station and turned the volume up as loud as it would go. It started playing The Clash, and Merlin was pleased about this. He’d always liked the Clash.  
He went over to his pantry and rooted around the blood and bones and other spell ingredients to find flour. He thought pancakes sounded divine that morning.   
As he started stirring the batter he’d made, a scruffy-looking Sam and exhausted Arthur wandered into the kitchen.  
“ _Should I stay or should I go now?_ ” Merlin sang, at the top of his lungs.   
Sam looked like it was Christmas, New Year’s, and his birthday all at once, while Arthur had the most relieved expression Merlin had ever seen on his face. If Merlin didn’t know better, he’d say Arthur was about to cry  
Both were still dressed, Arthur in the same clothes he’d departed in.   
“Morning, boys! Rise and shine! Who’s hungry?” Merlin said, cheerfully.   
“Merlin!” Sam exclaimed, wrapping the warlock in a tight hug. Merlin hugged back.  
“Alright, Sam, alright. I need to breathe.” Merlin wheezed. Sam quickly released him, as though Merlin were made of glass. “You’re too big, now, you walking tree. I remember when you were two years old and you called me Mer’n.” Merlin rambled.  
“Dear God, _Mer_ lin. Do you _ever_ shut up?” Arthur said, settling back into an old habit.  
“Not as long as I’ve lived, _sire_.” Merlin enunciated the syllable, driving it home. Arthur grinned, radiantly, at the interaction.  
Suddenly, Merlin heard his front door open then slam shut.   
“MERLIN!” The word rang through the house in an unmistakable voice. Dean.  
The older Winchester charged into the kitchen, angry (worried, Merlin knew how to read him) expression on his face. He stopped short when he saw the three of them casually standing there. “What the hell happened?!” Dean shouted. With as much shouting as Dean did, Merlin reasoned, he should probably invest in lozenges.  
“Dean, I left you like fifteen voicemails. Where were you?” Sam countered.  
“I was a little bit busy in 2014.” Dean answered. Merlin wasn’t as surprised as he probably should have been. He’d heard stranger things in the company of Winchesters.  
“2014?!” Sam exclaimed.   
“Long story. What happened here?” Dean demanded again. “Sam mentioned somethin’ about an Ean-whatever.” Dean said, addressing Merlin.  
“Eancanah.” Merlin automatically corrected, a habit he hadn’t broken since his boys were small. “Arthur retrieved an Eancanah. The _last_ Eancanah. It cut me off from my magic.” Merlin said.  
“Wait, _what_?!” Sam and Dean harmonized. Merlin had managed to worm his way out of telling the full truth to Dean, but now that he could survive, he figured it was time to confess.  
“Due to the world’s decline from the Apocalypse,” Merlin began, Sam’s flinch not going unnoticed. “My magic has been slowly killing me. The Eancanah bought me some time, although I don’t have long.”   
“Why would you do that?! You _know_ we’re gonna stop the Apocalypse! Have a little faith!” Dean shouted.  
“Oh, Dean. Always so quick to anger.” Merlin said, taking Dean aback. “I have faith in you. I have faith in Sam. But if I hadn’t done this, I would’ve been stuck in bed, unable to help you. It would’ve killed me. Before I did this, I had about four months left. Now I have six or seven. Enough time to stop the Apocalypse and let the magic come back to the world. I can reverse the affects of the Eancanah and then everything will be fine.” Merlin concluded.  
“You’ve only got six or seven months left?” Sam asked, heartbroken look on his face. Merlin felt his heart crack at the expression.  
“Yes. And there’s nothing I can do about it except help you stop to the Apocalypse. So, that’s what I’m going to do.” Merlin answered.  
“But don’t you have this…web of hunters?” Sam questioned.  
“I’m already making the necessary arrangements. A trusted friend of mine is taking over until the Apocalypse has been stopped. I called him yesterday, before the demons got here.” Merlin replied.  
“Demons?!” Dean shouted.  
“Eardrums, _please_.” Merlin snapped, making Dean take a deep breath.   
Arthur looked entirely baffled by the interaction, which made sense. Merlin had used ‘Eardrums, please’ as a way to get the boys to control their voices. Not stop being angry, just be able to restrain it temporarily until they could release it in a healthy way. Sometimes, Merlin still surprised them by using the phrase.  
“Alright, who is this guy?” Dean asked, much calmer.  
“His name’s Garth.” Merlin answered. “Very good at his job, if a little green. Helped me through one of the worst parts of my life.”   
All three in the room looked questioningly at him.  
“When Dean was in Hell.” Merlin answered. He readied the last of the pancakes, turned on his heel, and walked out of the kitchen.

 

Arthur wasn’t sure what to expect from this ‘Garth’ person, but he was sure that if Merlin trusted him, he was a good man.  
He waited anxiously on the couch as a knock sounded at the door.   
Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur’s behavior and answered the door, greeting the man with a firm hug. Arthur was surprised at the new development of familiarity, but didn’t comment on it.   
Merlin and the newcomer stepped inside, and Arthur got his first look at what he assumed to be Garth.  
The man was tall and lanky, with a kind smile and soft eyes. He carried a machete at his hip, showing off the fact that he was a hunter.   
“Thank you for this, Garth. I owe you one, truly.” Merlin said. Garth smiled and waved the thanks away.  
“If you stop the Apocalypse, consider it even.” He replied, making Merlin laugh.   
Arthur stood, waiting to introduce himself. Merlin beat him to the punch.  
“Garth, this is…Arthur.” Merlin hesitated on Arthur’s name, something Arthur couldn’t quite understand until Garth’s eyes went wide.  
“Wait, _Arthur_ Arthur?” Garth asked, surprised.  
“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it either.” Merlin answered. Garth walked forward and took Arthur’s hand, shaking it vigorously.  
“It’s nice to meet you, milord!” Garth greeted, excitedly.  
“The pleasure is all mine. And it’s just ‘Arthur’ now.” Arthur answered, wrenching his hand free from the grasp. Garth was a bit overwhelming, but he seemed nice.  
“Welp, y’all better get goin’ now. I’ll hold down the fort.” Garth said, cheerily.  
“The phones are clearly marked, I have all the aliases of every hunter I know written down, including mine, and if you need anything and can’t reach me, go to Sheriff Jody Mills. She’s a friend of mine, she’ll help you out in a pinch.” Merlin instructed. Arthur was amazed he could keep all that in his head.  
“Got it, boss.” Garth said. Merlin smiled and picked up the two duffel bags resting on his couch. One for himself, one for Arthur.   
He threw one to Arthur, nearly knocking the wind out of him as it hit his chest.  
“Thanks for the warning.” Arthur said, drily. Merlin grinned.  
“You’re welcome.” Merlin replied, cheekily. He smacked Garth lightly on the shoulder. “Good luck with the hunters. They’re stubborn bastards and don’t like change, but if anyone can persuade them to cooperate, it’s you.” Merlin said.  
“Thanks. Good luck saving the world.” Garth said back.  
And with that, Merlin left the house. Arthur was about to follow when Garth caught his arm.  
“Hey. Don’t break his heart, okay? He’s been through enough, he doesn’t need anymore heartache.” Garth warned, voice low and conspiring.  
“Noted.” Arthur replied, a bit startled.   
Garth released him and Arthur walked outside the house to join Merlin.


	13. Jet Airliner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Steve Miller Band)

Arthur felt a bit of nerves. He was going on his first case, and he didn’t want to mess it up. If he was fighting against an army, he’d have no trouble. But the monsters Merlin and the Winchesters faced? They were new territory.  
Arthur sat in the passenger seat of what Merlin referred to as a Mustang. The seats were worn, but not ripped. Arthur could see different colored thread standing out like a sore thumb against the slick black seats.   
Merlin was driving, comfortably, one hand resting on top of the wheel, controlling the mammoth Arthur once thought to be a creature.  
Barely ten days. That was how long Arthur had been in 2009. And he was adjusting surprisingly well. It was due to the combined efforts of Sam and Merlin and, to a certain extent. Gabriel. Gabriel had educated him on many things on their drive to the Eancanah. And, though he knew he probably wouldn’t, he slightly wanted to talk to the angel again.  
Merlin shifted in his seat, staring at the road through wide silver things he’d referred to as ‘aviators’. Though Arthur knew quite a bit about the world, there were still some things that needed an explanation. He knew what TVs and cars and cellphones did, but he didn’t know exactly _how_ they did it.  
“You’re staring, Arthur.” Merlin pointed out.  
“I am not.” Arthur denied, quickly turning to look out the window.  
This was a plain-faced lie. Arthur had been staring, and he was incredibly confused by it.   
He remembered what it was like in Camelot. How he could occasionally find himself _yearning_. Yearning for _Merlin_. However, he was unable to explore those urges. It was strictly forbidden, and he didn’t want to put Merlin at risk.   
After marrying Guinevere, he’d buried that part in him. Often he wondered if Merlin noticed the shift those final years of their lives together.  
But in 2009? There was nothing stopping him. Only his own cowardice and pride kept him from telling Merlin that he wanted the warlock near constantly.  
Sorting those feelings out was complicated enough. Tearing down his pride to tell his best friend that he wasn’t just yearning, he was beginning to _fall in love_? Not in this century.  
“Hey. You alright?” Merlin asked, glancing over to where Arthur was moping. Arthur sat a little straighter.  
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Arthur countered. Merlin gave a magnificent roll of his eyes.  
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the end of the world. Or the fact that you’ve been avoiding telling me something since I first ran into Lucifer.” Merlin listed.   
“So, what are we hunting?” Arthur evaded, obviously. Merlin guffawed, evidently surprised.  
“I’d be angry if that wasn’t so amazingly blatant. You’re lucky you’re stupid. We’re hunting a ghost. You remember how to kill a ghost, right? Or do I need to draw a diagram?” Merlin sassed.  
“You salt their corpse then burn it. And I really don’t appreciate the jabs at my intelligence, Merlin. I’m highly intelligent! I _was_ a king, you know!” Arthur argued.  
“Arthur, I _watched_ you cut down a beehive. You can’t fool me, you bloody cabbage-head.” Merlin countered, immediately.  
“That was when I was younger!”  
“You were _twenty seven years old_.”  
Arthur huffed and turned away.“Oh, don’t be like that, sire!” Merlin said, cheerfully.   
A ringing interrupted their banter. It was Merlin’s phone.   
“Think you could get that?” Merlin asked, surprisingly polite after the merciless insults. Arthur picked up Merlin’s phone and flipped it open, pressing the ‘answer’ button. “Emrys, here.” Merlin answered.  
“ _Merlin, hey. It’s, uh, Sam._ ” Sam’s hesitant voice filtered into the car.  
“Yes, Sam, I could recognize your voice even if it was pitched up three octaves.” Merlin said, fond smile on his face. “How can I help?”  
“ _The thing is…whatever Dean saw in 2014 really shook him up. He wants me to start hunting again, but…I’m not so sure I can be trusted. Not yet, at least._ ”   
Merlin gave a great sigh, but somehow with only his eyes. Arthur was certain he’d just witnessed a great spectacle.  
“ _And I keep telling him that we’re better hunters together!_ ” Dean’s voice came through the phone.  
“ _Dean!_ ” Sam protested, distantly.  
“ _Merlin, tell 'im!_ ” Dean insisted.   
“Oh for the love of all that is good and holy, will you two just shut up?” Merlin finally snapped.  
“ _What?_ ” Dean said, taken aback.  
“You two! You know you’re going to be hunting together again before the end of the month, so why deal with all this unnecessary angst when you could just get over it?” Merlin said. “I love you boys to death, but sometimes, I swear…Sam, you’re a good kid. Always have been, always will be. If there’s even a one percent chance of you being stronger than the demon blood, you will be stronger. And Dean, don’t pressure people to do what you want them to, not to family. It’ll end in resentment, trust me. Now, if you two can sort out your own issues for a bit, I’m about to go hunting.” Merlin finished his rant with a huff. “Arthur, could you please hang up?”   
Arthur nodded and pressed the appropriate button, closing the phone and setting it down.  
“Those boys, I mean…” mumbled Merlin.  
“But you love them.” Arthur reminded.  
“God help me, I do.” Merlin conceded.

 

Arthur had taken a large chunk of time figuring out how ties worked. After watching Merlin, he felt confident enough that he could do the same.  
They were currently in a seedy motel. The TV didn’t work and there was a slight grime on the walls, but Arthur had slept in worse. At least there were _mattresses_ here, not just semi-soft rocks as there often were.  
Merlin and Arthur were impersonating people called ‘FBI agents’. Merlin had instructed Arthur to mimic Sam and Dean’s shared accent for the job. He was getting a bit better at it, but he figured that Merlin would do most of the talking.  
Finally getting the tie right, he tightened it and examined himself in the mirror. He looked presentable, at the very least.   
Merlin came into the bathroom where Arthur was standing, looking far more put together. Perfectly pressed clothes (a _suit_ , Arthur had learned), combed down hair that Arthur previously thought was untamable, he’d even taken out his lip piercings. The suit sleeves covered Merlin’s sprawling tattoos.  
Merlin looked over at Arthur.  
“Tie looks good. You’re a quick study.” Merlin commented, tersely.  
“I sort of have to be, now.” Arthur remarked. Instead of replying, Merlin walked out of the bathroom and went to the door.  
“Are you ready?” Merlin asked. He was acting oddly. Odder than normal. And that made Arthur a bit concerned for him.  
“Is there something you want to say to me, Merlin?” Arthur half-demanded.  
“Nope. Are you ready?” Merlin repeated.  
“I suppose I am.”   
Arthur and Merlin collected their coats and left the motel room, Merlin firmly locking it behind them.


	14. Dream On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Aerosmith)

Everything was very confusing at the crime scene.  
Yellow tape was in a square surrounding a white outline of a person in an awkward position. One that could only be attained in death.  
People in identical uniforms stood around the tape, milling about seemingly with purpose, yet Arthur couldn’t see them doing anything.  
Merlin approached one of the uniformed people ( _police officers_ , Arthur recalled) and held out an object. His fake FBI badge.  
“I’m Agent Siegel, this is my partner, Agent Dillinger.” Merlin said, in a perfect accent. Arthur nearly forgot to hold up his badge, but he remembered in the nick of time and held it out.  
The officer, a tall woman with tightly wound black hair, lifted the tape, and Arthur and Merlin ducked under it.   
Arthur got a closer look at the outline. It was huge, the person was likely Sam’s height, but broader. Arthur had only seen one person like that, and he’d been dead for many years.   
Blood was splattered onto the walls and all over the floor.   
“Who’s the vic?” Merlin asked the officer.  
“A local mechanic. Name’s Perceval Masters. First his sisters, now this…Poor bastard.” The officer said.  
Arthur’s heart stopped. _Perceval_. There was…there was just no way. It absolutely wasn’t possible. It _couldn’t_ be the same Perceval.   
Merlin must’ve had the same thoughts as Arthur, since he turned to the officer and asked: “What can you tell me about him?”  
“Well, everybody around here loved him. Looked terrifying, all big and strong, but he was the sweetest guy you’d ever seen. Helped old ladies with their groceries, lifted kids onto his shoulders to make ‘em feel tall, the whole nine. It hit everyone pretty hard when he bit it.” The officer said.  
That sure _sounded_ like the Perceval Arthur knew. But it just…it couldn’t be. The thought that Perceval had come back (or never died), and Arthur had just missed him…it was like needles to his heart.  
“Did the Coroner already get him?” Merlin asked, carefully disguising a crack in his voice. But Arthur knew it was there. He’d known Merlin too long to not notice it.  
“Yeah, earlier today.”  
“I’ll go check him out. My partner will stay here, get as many clues as he can.” Merlin said. Arthur nodded at his instructions. He didn’t like being told what to do, but he would’ve made the same call. If it really _was_ Perceval, he wouldn’t have been able to keep his cool, seeing one of his knights dead. He’d barely managed it with Elyan, all those years ago.  
As soon as Merlin departed, Arthur looked around, awkwardly. He had no idea what he was doing, or even what he was looking for, but Merlin trusted him. So, he powered through, and attempted to remember everything Merlin had taught him about ghosts.  
He could do this. And, even if he couldn’t, he could pretend he knew what he was doing.

 

Merlin’s forehead rested against the wheel of his car. He tried to regulate his breathing and stop the tears on his face.  
It was Perceval. The gentle giant of a man was dead, and Merlin hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.  
Perceval had always been so kind to Merlin, only goading him when all the other knights had started it. He had become a good friend, and they would often discuss their home villages when they got the chance. Seeing him dead in a morgue drawer was like a knife to the chest.  
Merlin was on the verge of hyperventilating. If Perceval had come back, who else would? Lancelot? Gwaine? Gwen? _Morgana_? And worse, still. _Who had already been lost?_  
He had no idea how he was going to explain this to Arthur. That not only was one of his Knights of the Round Table dead, he was dead because of a _ghost_.   
Merlin’s phone began to ring, interrupting his train of thought. He picked it up and answered, but not before forcing the emotions out of his voice.  
“Agent Siegel.” Merlin answered, blankly.  
“ _Merlin, it’s me._ ” Arthur’s voice came through.  
“Arthur. What have you got?” Merlin asked.  
“ _Well, you were right. It’s a ghost. I used the E…M…whatever you said it was._ ”  
“EMF Reader.”  
“ _Right, that. Anyways, I used it, and it made a rather large amount of noise. …That…that does mean it’s a ghost, right?_ ” Arthur sounded so confused and innocent, it almost hurt.  
“Yes, it does, Arthur. Good job. You see anything that could tell us who it is?” Merlin questioned. There was a long silence, so long that Merlin almost thought Arthur had disconnected.  
“ _Yes. And the very thought of it makes me sick._ ”  
“What do you mean?” Merlin asked, worried.  
“ _Get here soon._ ” With that, Arthur hung up, leaving Merlin terrified.  
Merlin drove as quickly as he could, knuckle turning white on the steering wheel, back to the motel room where he found Arthur, sitting on his bed.  
His tie was gone and his eyes were tired. He looked up at Merlin with a deep sorrow in his eyes.  
“What’s wrong?” Merlin asked, coming to kneel in front of Arthur. The gesture seemed to take Arthur aback, as his eyes widened. He quickly recovered and heaved a deep sigh.  
“Merlin, I don’t like admitting it, but I am terrified.” Arthur confessed. Merlin knew it must be bad. He could always tell when Arthur was scared, but the former king outright admitting it? That was nearly unheard of.  
“Of what?”  
Arthur pulled out his phone and stared at it, pressing few buttons, hesitantly.  
“I found this on Perceval’s nightstand.” Arthur said, showing Merlin the phone.   
It was like someone had poured ice water right over Merlin’s head. As soon as he saw the image Arthur had taken (a bit shakily), he forgot how to breathe.  
Morgana’s healing bracelet.  
“Did you touch this?” Merlin whispered.  
“No, of course not.” Arthur answered, automatically.  
“Do you think it’s actually… _her_?” Merlin asked.  
“I don’t think it’s her. I think we’d know if it was Morgana. But how Perceval got his hands on this, it will be forever beyond me.” Arthur said. He looked like he was about to say more, but he stopped himself. A silent question was in his eyes.  
“It was Perceval.” Merlin answered, quietly.  
The change was instantaneous. Arthur’s shoulders sagged, his eyes turned red with tears he would never shed, and he licked his lips. A sure sign that Arthur was feeling things.  
“I see.” His voice was more a croak than anything else. “We shall avenge him.” Arthur mumbled. Merlin nodded, unable to say anything. He adjusted his position to sit against the bed, legs sprawled out, head leaning on the mattress. No words were spoken between the two.  
In that moment, they weren’t anything but two men sharing their grief. Everything else was shoved aside in favor of mourning Perceval.

 

Night had fallen outside.  
Arthur still sat on his bed, barely having moved since earlier that same day. Merlin had silently walked off to the shower twenty minutes ago, but Arthur stayed put.  
Now, Merlin walked out of the bathroom, hair still damp, sticking to his forehead in curls. He sat on the bed next to Arthur’s and stared at the ceiling for a long moment.  
“If it _is_ Morgana, what will you do?” Merlin suddenly asked.  
“I have no idea.” Arthur answered, truthfully. “They’re coming back for the Apocalypse, aren’t they?” Arthur supposed.  
“I think they are.”   
Another stretch of silence.  
“If the Apocalypse goes through-” Arthur began.  
“It won’t.” Merlin interrupted, automatically.  
“But if it does,” Arthur persisted. “You will die. They’ll all die. And knowing my luck, I won’t join you.” Merlin raised an eyebrow.  
“Your luck is horrible.”“Exactly.”  
Arthur let the word hang in the air for a few seconds.  
“There’s nothing we can do.” Merlin said. “Not now, at least. We can only dig further and hope either we or the boys come up with something.”  
Arthur hummed in acknowledgment.  
“Then there’s nothing else keeping me from this.” Arthur said. He stood up, taking a wild leap of faith, and walked to Merlin.  
“Arthur?” Merlin murmured, staring directly into his eyes.  
“I think…I think I’m falling in love with you.” Arthur finally admitted. It was difficult to stomach, being so honest with himself, but if the world was going to end, he had nothing left to lose. Besides, he’d spent enough time bottling up his emotions. He’d spent enough time wanting something he wouldn’t let himself have and being miserable for it.  
Merlin didn’t respond. He surged forward and grabbed Arthur’s face, pulling him into a kiss. Arthur willingly accepted and kissed back, easing both himself and Merlin onto the bed.  
Merlin’s hands traveled down Arthur’s torso, coming to rest on his hips. Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s shoulders.  
That night, they drowned themselves in grief and love and lust and sorrow and fear. It was a hazy fever dream of passion and pleasure, all tinted by loss, and the desire for tomorrow never to be a reality.  
Arthur wouldn’t forget a second of it.


	15. Burnin' For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Blue Oyster Cult)

Merlin woke up beside Arthur, a surprising fact in and of itself.  
Arthur was still peacefully asleep, as though he hadn’t a care in the world. As though he hadn’t discovered the previous night that one of his knights was dead. Again.  
Merlin couldn’t help but smile at the picture, gently brushing the sweaty, matted hair from Arthur’s forehead. Arthur smiled in his sleep, clearly having a pleasant dream. His arm was draped over Merlin’s side, and Merlin carefully dislodged it, despite how much he wanted to stay there. Arthur looked _painfully_ adorable.  
Merlin resisted the urge to kiss his forehead, instead stepping into the bathroom and turning on the water for the shower.   
As the steam filled the room, Merlin’s mind went in a hundred different directions at once. The previous night. Perceval. The case. Morgana. His boys.   
The thoughts were too intense for one brain to carry all of them at once. Merlin stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment, as though he was trying to will the thoughts onto his reflection.   
“Alright, Merlin. What would Kilgharrah say?” Merlin muttered to himself, thinking. He shifted into what he remembered Kilgharrah’s voice to sound like. “Look inwards, young warlock. The path is clear, should you ask the correct questions.”  
Steam rolled over the mirror, covering it to the point where Merlin could no longer see his reflection.  
“You’re not even _alive_ anymore and you’re snubbing me, you bloody lizard!” Merlin whisper-shouted, gesturing wildly at the mirror. Feeling particularly childish that morning, he flashed his middle finger to his reflection and stomped into the shower.  
Running his fingers through his hair, he mulled over everything that’d happened in the past few days. And then it hit him. It hit him square in the face as the most obvious thing in history.  
He barely managed to cover himself with a towel. He didn’t even turn off the water or dry himself off. He just ran out into the main room where Arthur was still asleep.  
“Arthur!” Merlin shouted. In an instant, Arthur was awake, knife in his hand, standing on top of his bed.   
“Where is it?!” Arthur yelled, hopping off the bed.  
“No, it’s not that! Listen, the ghost is _Morgause_.” Merlin said. Arthur looked at Merlin for a long moment.  
“What?” He asked, blankly.  
“The ghost that killed Perceval! It’s Morgause! Think about it. Ghosts kill people the same way they died, right? Perceval was smashed into the wall.” It hurt to say, but needed to be said. “That’s exactly how Morgause eventually died. I sent her into the wall and smashed her.” Merlin finally confessed.  
Arthur seemed surprised at the revelation, but the wheels in his head were turning elsewhere, Merlin knew.  
“And that’s why she attached herself to the healing bracelet. She gave that bracelet to Morgana.” Arthur concluded.  
“Exactly! You’re thinking like a hunter, now!” Merlin said.   
“So, what now? We just go burn the bracelet?” Arthur asked.  
“She’s going to fight us. One of us needs to draw her fire while the other does the salt-and-burn job.” Merlin replied.  
“Alright. I think you should do the burning.” Arthur said. Merlin raised a brow. “I just think that you know more about this…particular area than I do.”  
“Burning things?”  
“Burning _haunted_ things.” Arthur corrected. Merlin chuckled.  
“This wouldn’t be because you want me to stay out of danger, would it?” Merlin asked, slightly teasingly. Arthur took on an offended look.  
“What on _earth_ gave you that impression?” Arthur asked, incredulous. Merlin chuckled and rolled his eyes.  
“Turnip-head.” Merlin muttered, small smile on his face. All he wanted to do was kiss Arthur, but there was a smidgen of doubt within him. What if all it was, was one night? One night to make both of them feel better?  
All doubts were erased when Arthur casually gave Merlin a quick kiss. He pulled away with a slightly dopey-looking smile on his face.  
“You should probably get dressed. We still have work to do.” Arthur pointed out. “And you’re literally dripping.”  
As Arthur said it, Merlin wiped water out of his eyes and grinned.  
“Right.” Merlin mumbled. “Oh, Dean might kill you.” He pointed out, making Arthur chuckle.  
“Dean might kill me for breathing in the wrong direction, I’ll take the risk.” Arthur said.  
“I feel so loved.” Merlin quipped, deadpan. Arthur froze, and for a moment, Merlin worried he’d said the wrong thing. That he’d drawn attention to the odd way Arthur was acting.  
But Arthur relaxed and was smiling once more.   
“Shut up.” Arthur said, fondness in his tone.  
“Not if you don’t make me.” Merlin immediately countered, walking off to get dressed with a wink. He could feel Arthur’s eyes following him. And for once, he wasn’t thinking about the bad. He only lingered on the feeling of Arthur’s lips on his.

 

The police scanner had picked up another death that occurred the previous night. Though the police clearly didn’t realize it, it was because of the bracelet.  
Arthur and Merlin had split up. There was a witness to be interviewed, and a body to examine, just to be certain. On the off chance it was another knight, Merlin took the body. Arthur was on his way to interview the witness.  
Arthur was a bit dazed as he walked into the police station where the witness was resting. He still had Merlin’s taste on his tongue.   
Despite everything that’d happened, despite the guilt he felt for it, Arthur was a little happy. He’d finally told Merlin how he felt, and it paid off. Not only did Merlin take him to bed, he seemed to be feeling the same way as Arthur.   
Arthur strode into the station with a sense of purpose. The officer at the first crime scene recognized him and waved him through.  
“She’s in there. Don’t spook her, alright?” The officer warned, her voice gentle. Arthur nodded, and followed the officer to a large office.  
The witness was a woman with unreasonably curly hair. He couldn’t see her face, as she was curled up on a small couch in the office, her back to the door.  
“Miss Smith? This is Agent Dillinger, he’s looking into this case. If you could answer a few of his questions, you’d really help us out.” The officer coaxed. She left the room shortly after, leaving Arthur alone with this woman.   
Arthur took a moment to prepare his accent before sitting down on a chair across from her and making his posture inviting. Merlin was better at this, he knew, but he was a king, dammit! If he couldn’t talk to people, than what could he do?  
“Do you mind telling me what you saw last night, miss?” Arthur asked. His accent was fairly convincing.  
It dropped away from him the minute she looked up, directly at Arthur, dark eyes turned red from crying. Tear tracks still stained her cheeks and she gave a little sniffle. Her eyes widened when she fully looked at Arthur.  
“Arthur?” She mumbled, confusedly, voice so achingly familiar.  
What he said next was a whisper, as he was unable to get his voice any stronger. The shock was too strong for that.  
“Guinevere?”


	16. The Chain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Fleetwood Mac)

Guinevere. Right here, directly in front of him. Alive and well, like it was Camelot’s day! But her attire, bizarre and entirely foreign to Camelot’s attire of choice, grounded him in the present. It was 2009, and it wouldn’t do to forget it.   
“What are you doing _alive_?” Arthur asked, incredulous. “I thought you had…” He let the sentence hang, unable to say the condemning words. Guinevere inferred his meaning.  
“I had. But…one day, I woke up here. I had lived an already full life, but suddenly, I was… _me_ , again. And now…now Elyan is…” She trailed off, fresh tears springing into her eyes.  
“So it really was him…” Arthur mumbled. “I’m sorry, Guinevere. Truly, I am.”   
Guinevere let out a tiny sob, and Arthur pulled her into a hug, one she gladly returned. It was an odd, surreal sort of feeling. He’d thought Guinevere to be dead. He’d repressed the emotions he felt from it, but now…she wasn’t dead.  
After a long moment, Arthur pulled away and cupped her face in his hands, just absorbing the miraculous information. She was _alive_.   
A question popped into his head. He dropped his hands and, instead, rested them on his legs.   
“Have you been in contact with any of the other knights? Do you know if they came back, too?” Arthur questioned, unsure if he wanted to know.  
“No. The only two I knew were Elyan and Perceval. I’m sorry, Arthur.” Guinevere replied, sincerely. “Is…is Merlin here, too? Did he come back?” Arthur shook his head.  
“He never left. He’s been alive…all this time.” Arthur murmured, eyes downcast.  
There was a moment of silence between them, neither quite sure what to say.  
“What are you doing in Massachusetts?” Guinevere suddenly asked.  
“That’s…that’s a long story.” Arthur replied, nervously.  
How was he going to explain that he and Merlin were hunting a ghost? The ghost of _Morgause_ , to be exact?  
This was not going to be an easy conversation. Where was Merlin when you needed him?

 

Merlin was walking out of the morgue once again. It was definitely Elyan. And it twisted the knife further into his heart.  
Two of his friends were dead, _again_ , and he hadn’t seen either of them since Camelot’s day. He missed them terribly.  
Merlin shoved the thoughts away, temporarily. He had a ghost to hunt.  
He slid into his car and picked up his cell, dialing the number without even looking. He held the phone to his ear, and waited. He didn’t have to do so for long.  
“ _Merlin?_ ” Arthur questioned.  
“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, that was Elyan.” Merlin began, tersely.  
“ _I know. I’m talking to Guinevere._ ”   
Merlin’s brain screeched to a halt at the word. Memories flooded in, of the curly-haired girl with the biggest heart Merlin had ever known. She was still alive. And she had witnessed her brother’s murder. Again.  
“Can you put her on?” Merlin asked. A few seconds, and then:  
“ _Merlin? Is it really you?_ ” Gwen’s voice came through the phone. Despite the circumstances, a large smile broke out on Merlin’s face.  
“Gwen. You’re alive!” Merlin rejoiced.  
“ _So are you! I don’t even know where to start…_ ”  
“I’m sorry about Elyan, truly, I am.” Merlin said, sincerely.  
“ _Arthur said the same thing. He also said that…Elyan was killed by a ghost?_ ” Gwen asked, sounding a bit confused.  
“The one we’re hunting, yes. We think it might be the ghost of Morgause.” Merlin explained. Gwen let out an audible gasp.  
“ _Morgause…ghosts…oh, Merlin, what’s happened to you?_ ”  
“A lot of things, Gwen. Too many. And once the ghost is gone, I’ll tell you all about it. Tell Arthur to meet me at the motel, you can come along, too. And Gwen?”  
“ _Yes?_ ”  
“It’s good to have you back. Really, really good.”  
Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin could’ve sworn he saw someone standing on the pavement, staring at him. But when he looked, there was no one.

 

“Salt?”  
“Check.”  
“Iron?”  
“Check.”  
“Lighter fluid?”  
“Check.”  
This had been going on for nearly five minutes. Merlin and Arthur were preparing to depart for ghost hunting, Gwen watching from the sidelines, worrying at her lip.  
They’d changed out of their suits and were in more comfortable clothes. And Merlin had to say, hunter gear looked _magnificent_ on Arthur. Merlin could allow himself these thoughts, now, and an appreciative glance. Although, Gwen was in the room, and that was a bit awkward.  
“So, you hunt monsters?” Gwen questioned, hesitantly.  
“Have for over three centuries, unfortunately.” Merlin answered, examining a shotgun to check if it was in proper, working order. It was.  
“Three centuries…how long have you been alive?” It was becoming an interrogation, but Merlin didn’t mind. He was overjoyed to have Gwen back.  
“Over fifteen-hundred years. And believe me, it’s too long a time for one person.” Merlin confessed. Arthur paused for a moment to stare at Merlin, a mix of puzzled and slightly hear-broken. Merlin hated that look.  
“You must tell me you weren’t alone. Not for all of it.” Gwen pleaded.   
“Yeah, some people, over the years. I adopted two boys. They’re my life, now, even when they screw up, royally.” Merlin began. Arthur guffawed, knowing just how much Sam and Dean had screwed up. Merlin debated for a moment before adding his next bit:   
“And I had someone named…” Merlin swallowed a lump in his throat. “Nick. His name was Nick.”  
Arthur placed a consoling hand on Merlin’s shoulder, squeezing, gently. It was an unexpected gesture, but everything was unexpected with Arthur, nowadays.  
The wound Nick had left was still fresh, and aching. He’d been doing a good job of pushing it to the side, but it came bubbling back to the surface.  
Merlin shook his head, physically shaking the memories away, and continued checking his equipment. Arthur’s hand lingered for a moment before he dropped it and went back to his task. Merlin could feel Gwen’s eyes track the movement, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  
“I’m coming with you. I can’t let you two get hurt.” Gwen insisted. Arthur was about to protest, by Merlin held up a hand to stop him.  
“Can you handle a shotgun?” Merlin asked.  
“Won a championship, once.” Gwen answered without missing a beat.  
“Good. You and Arthur can cover each other while I melt the bracelet.” Merlin worked out the plan, grabbing a shotgun from the bed and handing it to Gwen.  
“We’re not even going to talk about it?” Arthur asked.   
“We are not. Come on, time to go.” Merlin urged, shrugging on his jacket of brown leather, swinging his keys around on his finger. “Let’s go on a witch hunt, shall we?”


	17. Slow Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Foghat)  
> I would also like to apologize for my long absence. My mental health took a bit of a dive, and I had to recover it before I could continue. I'm recovering, so, here I am! Back again! Please enjoy.

Arthur was tense. There was too much going on all at once. Guinevere was back, two of his knights were dead, Morgause was hunting them again, they were going to destroy a ghost, and he’d shared a night with (a slowly dying) Merlin. He wondered how Merlin could stand all of that and more inside his head.  
Merlin’s face was blank as he drove, completely devoid of emotion. It was a bit disconcerting to see. Usually he had _something_ behind his eyes to tell how he was feeling. But there was nothing there. Arthur resisted the urge to grab his hand. He wasn’t sure it’d be a good idea.  
The silence in the car was suffocating, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to break it. But he couldn’t think of a way to do that. Even Guinevere, pushed to the backseat, was entirely silent.  
He hadn’t felt this awkward since Cabinet meetings back in Camelot. He remembered one instance in which Gwaine mimed being a chicken behind the back of a nobleman droning on about the crops. Arthur had punished him, but he still found it quite funny.  
 _Gwaine._ Had Gwaine already passed? What had even happened to him, after Arthur’s death? Loathe as he was to admit it, Arthur cared for the drunken knight like his own family.  
“What happened to Gwaine? After I died?” Arthur asked, finally breaking the oppressive quiet of the drive.  
“He died before you. Morgana tortured him to death without mercy. Perceval brought his body back to Camelot, and we burned him.” Merlin answered, tone entirely neutral.  
It was horrible to learn. What was even worse was the way Merlin’s eyes deadened entirely when he talked about Gwaine.  
Arthur fell silent and took to staring out the window.  
So much had changed since Camelot’s time. Everything that had happened to him had happened so quickly, Arthur barely had time to comprehend everything.  
Seeing Guinevere had shaken him to his core. He’d previously been so wrapped up in Merlin, he’d forgotten about her. And the guilt was overwhelming. But at the same time, he couldn’t go back to her.   
The car jerked to a stop. They had arrived at Elyan’s and Guinevere’s house, where the bracelet still laid. How it had even gotten there, Arthur couldn’t imagine. He didn’t even know how _Perceval_ had gotten it.  
“We’re here. You remember what to do?” Merlin asked.   
“Shotgun full of rock salt. Shoot when we see the ghost, keep her off your back.” Guinevere contributed.   
“And if your shotgun fails?”  
“Iron.” Arthur added, holding up the chain Merlin had given him. It was cold in his hands.  
“Good. Let’s go kill the witch.” Merlin muttered, darkly. The way he’d been acting had Arthur worried. He’d never admit to it, however.  
“Merlin, are you alright?” Guinevere asked. Even in the wake of tragedy, she still cared about others. That was the woman Arthur knew.  
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s just go.” Merlin exited the car on the last syllable, forcing Arthur and Guinevere to follow just after him.  
They approached the house, the leaves crunching beneath their feet, echoing like gunshots into the stillness of the night. It set Arthur on edge, made the hair on his neck stand and his fingers tighten around his shotgun.  
Merlin entered the house, not even bothering with silence. His hand went behind him, gesturing to Arthur and Gwen. They stayed at an arm’s length behind him.  
He walked into the main room of the deathly quiet house. An eerie light was being cast from the room, and Arthur didn’t like it.  
Merlin gestured to them, telling them to stay hidden. Arthur nodded in affirmation and pressed up against the wall. His heart was beating in his throat. He’d only hunted a ghost once before, and he hadn’t been intending to kill his father’s ghost.  
Merlin walked into the main room, and Arthur immediately lost sight of him. _What was that idiot doing?_  
Still, Arthur obeyed Merlin’s command. If it got too bad, he could run very quickly into the room and rescue Merlin. But he wasn’t the expert. Merlin was.  
“Hello, again, Morgause. Here I thought you were in the Veil.” Merlin said.  
“Hello, Emrys. Yes, I’m in the Veil. Why do you think I’m here?” An ethereal female voice echoed through the house. Arthur felt a chill in his bones, his breath came out in clouds. It was certainly Morgause.  
“You killed two people I love very dearly. That wasn’t a good decision to make.” Merlin said, almost pleasantly. Yet the tone in his voice was everything but.  
“You and I both know very well that you have no magic inside you.”  
“You’re right. But I’m still stronger than you ever could be.” He was acting nonchalant. “I’m better than you, and I think you know that. Even as a ghost, even with your magic still intact, I’m still better than you.”   
A scream of pure hatred shook the entire house. Something broke. Arthur took it as his cue to start shooting.   
He ran into the room and shot at Morgause, feeling Guinevere backed up against him, facing the opposite direction.   
For the split second he saw Morgause, he was terrified. She was a ghost, fully-fledged. And looked simply terrible, with a massive scar on her face. But as soon as the rock salt entered her semi-body, she vanished.   
Merlin grabbed the bracelet off the table and poured salt onto it. Guinevere fired off a shot, and Arthur tried not to flinch. It didn’t work.   
Arthur saw Merlin hold up a lighter. And an ethereal figure behind him.  
“Merlin, duck!” He screamed, before firing. Merlin bent just in time, and the ghost dissipated. Merlin put the lighter to the bracelet, and they waited for it to start melting.   
A window broke. Two. Three. All the windows in the house were breaking in a symphony of shattered glass. Shards flew against Arthur’s skin, but he couldn’t let his guard down.   
Suddenly, Morgause appeared right in front of him. Before he could even react, he was lifted up in the air and flung across the room. His back hit the wall, and pain erupted behind his eyelids.  
“Arthur!” Merlin and Guinevere harmonized.  
He didn’t stay down long, despite the aching in his spine. He saw Morgause appear behind Guinevere and took a shot. His head was a bit fuzzy and his vision was blurring, so he could only pray it would land.  
Thankfully, it hit, and she vanished once again. Arthur looked over at Merlin’s progress. He was nearly done.   
Guinevere saw Morgause before Arthur did. Bang! She was good at this, but Morgause didn’t stay away for long.  
Just as Arthur was about to make another shot, Morgause’s body turned into flames. She screamed as she burned, still reaching out to grab Merlin.  
Drops of metal dripped off the table, slowly, one after another.  
“Well,” Arthur began, breathlessly. “That was eventful.”  
Merlin let out an exasperated laugh, if such a thing was possible, and Arthur suddenly felt like he was back to semi-normal.

 

They stood outside the motel in the light of day. Wind whipped through Gwen’s hair, allowing it to fly.  
“What will you do, now, Gwen?” Merlin asked, loading up the trunk of his car and slamming it down.  
“Search for the other knights. From what you two were telling me, it seems that you don’t have time for it. Saving the world, and all.” Gwen answered, a backpack slung over her shoulder. “I can’t go back to a mundane life, after these few days.”   
“I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to you, Guinevere. You don’t deserve it.” Arthur said, sincerely.  
“I don’t. But it’s what I’ve been dealt. Not sure where I’ll start looking, I think I’ll just…start.” Gwen said, feigning a smile.  
“You’ll find Gwaine in a pub.” Merlin attempted levity. Gwen gave a small, genuine smile, so he considered it a win. “Good luck, Gwen. And I know someone who could help you. It seems the unnatural world is trying to rebel against us, and you’ll need someone to show you the ropes.” Merlin said. He retrieved a scrap of paper from his coat and scribbled a quick number on it. “His name is Rufus Turner. We go way back. Tell him I sent you, he’ll tag along. And give him this.” Merlin handed over an envelope he’d had for a while. “He’ll know what it is.”  
“Thank you, Merlin.” Gwen said. “You have my number. If you need anything, let me know. I’ll come running.”   
“Thanks, Gwen.” Merlin replied. She surged forward and grappled him in a hug.   
“I missed you so much.” She whispered. Merlin hugged back, just as fiercely.   
“I missed you, too.” Merlin confessed.  
It was true. He missed everyone more than anything else about Camelot, but Gwen and Gwaine were his best friends. He missed them the most.  
Gwen let go, and gave Arthur a quick hug, as well. She said something for only his ears, and Merlin refused to listen in.  
Gwen finally let go. She gave a final wave and walked off to her car. Merlin and Arthur watched her drive away.  
“Do you think she’ll find them?” Arthur asked.  
“I don’t know.” Merlin replied.  
Without another word spoken between them, they got in the car and drove away.


	18. Rock You Like a Hurricane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Scorpions)

“I just got a call from Garth.” Merlin announced, walking into the motel room, slamming the door shut behind him.   
“What did he say?” Arthur asked, sitting up from his reclined position.  
“In the continental United States, I know every hunter that has ever passed through. I have a full roster of them with pictures and descriptions. But one is working a case. And Garth doesn’t know who it is.” Merlin answered.  
“Is it possible you missed one?” Arthur questioned. He knew immediately it was a bad move, but it needed to be asked.  
It had been a week since they’d left Guinevere, and Merlin hadn’t settled down in that time. The prospect of returning knights seemed to have really given Merlin the idea that the world was ending soon.  
“No. There is no possible way I missed one. I’ve been tracking hunters since the days of the Men of Letters, I won’t have missed a single new blip.” Merlin argued. “And listen, Garth gave me the description he was given.”  
“And?” Arthur prompted.  
“It matches with a certain drunken knight we all know.” Merlin revealed. Arthur was caught between about a dozen emotions at once.  
But despite everything, despite all the trauma he’d been experiencing in his limited time in 2009, his face still split into a grin.  
“That magnificent bastard.” Arthur muttered. Merlin matched him, and Arthur was glad to see the expression back. “He’s already a hunter?”  
“Apparently he didn’t need us to give him the Apocalypse talk. The case he’s working is demons.” Merlin added.  
“Demons? _Gwaine_?” Arthur repeated, incredulously.  
“Arthur, the man fought wyverns.” Merlin pointed out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was knee-deep in Rugarus.”  
“Ruga-what?” Arthur repeated. Merlin stared at him for a moment.  
“Never mind. We need to get going before Gwaine gets himself killed.” Merlin insisted. There was a strange emotion in his eyes that Arthur couldn’t pinpoint. But he’d seen it in Merlin before, back in Camelot, not long after he married Guinevere.  
“Alright. Where is he?” Arthur asked. He didn’t even claim to understand Merlin’s brain anymore. He very much doubted that would ever change.  
“Carthage, Missouri. Apparently, there’s a whole bunch of demons down there.”  
“Think we can make it there in a few hours?” Arthur questioned, grabbing his bag. The language of this time was still foreign and strange, but he was getting used to it.  
“One, if we take the backroads.” Merlin said, cheeky smile growing on his face.  
Arthur loved seeing it.

 

Merlin had noticed something strange on the way to Carthage. It wasn’t just his imagination, he was sure of it.  
Despite it being the daytime, there were very few cars when they started getting closer. Fewer, the closer they got to the town limits, until eventually, they were the only ones on the road.  
“Where have all the people gone?” Arthur asked. Merlin was surprised he’d noticed.  
“I think Carthage will tell us.” Merlin answered, killing the engine.  
The two stepped out of the car and began trekking into the town. There was an uneasy feeling, like an aura, surrounding the town. The hairs on the back of Merlin’s neck were at attention, his skin was crawling, his heart was beating a mile a minute.  
Arthur drew out Excalibur, loosely holding it. On guard, but not active. Clearly, it wasn’t just in Merlin’s head.  
Merlin took a stolen angel blade out of his jacket, wanting to be prepared. But he nearly dropped it when he saw the town.  
Reapers. Rows and rows and rows of them, standing around, watching. Waiting. What were they waiting for? And why were there so many of them?“Arthur. Can you see them?” Merlin whispered, harshly.  
“See what?” Arthur asked, effectively answering Merlin’s question.  
“Reapers. Dozens of them. Something’s happening here, and I don’t know what.” Merlin answered. He sent a glance to Arthur, and nodded.   
Merlin entered the town, carefully weaving around the reapers. Arthur matched his footsteps, carefully, though he had no need to. He didn’t see the reapers.  
The town was empty, not a single person in sight. And that wasn’t surprising, considering all the reapers just standing about.  
Merlin’s eyes trailed across the landscape and locked onto a hardware store. Hellhounds, a whole dozen of them, were clawing at the doors, which were bolted shut.  
Merlin grabbed Arthur’s sleeve and pulled him out of sight from the hellhounds, heart pounding in his throat.  
“We have to get into there. If hellhounds are at the doors, that means there are people inside. Whoever they are, we have to save them.” Merlin insisted.  
“And if they’re the enemy?” Arthur countered, warily.  
“You have a sword that can kill anything, and I have a sword that can do much the same.” Merlin pointed out.  
“Then what are we waiting for?” Arthur challenged. Merlin grinned, pecked Arthur’s cheek, then crept around the side of the building.   
There was an entrance on the roof, a slim window they could enter through on top. Taking on that many hellhounds on their own, no matter how competent they were, was a death sentence.  
Merlin gestured up to the window, and Arthur nodded, comprehending.  
Slowly, to avoid the hellhounds, they climbed onto the adjacent building. Merlin remembered frequently climbing towers with Arthur in insane rescue missions, so modern buildings were nothing.  
There was a small jump that Merlin would need to perform to break the window, but he could make it, even depowered.   
Merlin readied himself, then leapt to the next building. He rolled onto the roof, breaking his fall. He stood back up and walked towards the window. Arthur joined him, seconds later.  
Merlin put his boot through the window, and the glass shattered inwards. Merlin sent a quick grin to Arthur before jumping in. He’d dropped further, he was certain he could stick the landing.  
It was murder on his legs, but he landed on his feet. Arthur was not so lucky, landing on his rear end. Merlin waved in an attempt to get him up.   
Rows and rows of tools stretched before him. It seemed like any old hardware store.  
Merlin turned the corner, and found the barrels of two shotguns staring him in the face. And Sam and Dean Winchester, looking exhausted and worse for wear.  
“What the hell are you two doing here?” Merlin demanded. The shotguns were immediately lowered. “There are _hellhounds_ outside! What have you boys gotten yourselves into?”  
“You haven’t heard?” Sam asked, confused.  
“Heard about what?”  
“Lucifer. He’s here.” Dean divulged. Merlin’s brain blanked, his heart coming to a stop.   
“And why didn’t you tell me about that?” Merlin asked, coldly.  
“We knew that you were dying, so-” Merlin cut Sam off.  
“I cut off my magic so I could _help_ you! I didn’t do it to be sidelined, I did it to help kill the devil and stop you two from being meatsuits!” Merlin shouted, unable to control himself.  
“Merlin?” A hoarse voice called. Merlin recognized it, but it was different than he’d ever heard it.  
Merlin walked around the Winchesters and gasped when he saw who’d spoken. It was Jo, leaning against a rack of tools. Her legs were immobile, she was covered in blood, bracing her stomach with her hand.  
Jo Harvelle was on death’s door, and it was obvious to see.  
What a pleasant trip to Carthage, indeed.


	19. Dust in the Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (artist: Kansas)

Merlin rushed over to Jo and knelt down beside her. He brushed back a few pieces of sweaty hair from her face.  
“Oh, Joanna…I’m so sorry, child, I’m so sorry…” Merlin whispered. She smiled, weakly, at him.  
“It’s okay, Merlin…everybody’s time comes, eventually…just didn’t expect mine to come so soon…” She rasped.  
“I could’ve saved you. If I still had my magic, I could save you!” Merlin wanted to insist to himself and to Jo they could still save her without magic. But he’d seen too many knights look like this. It would take a miracle, by God or the Triple Goddess to save her. And neither had their ears on.  
“I know you could. But it’s okay. This is just how the cards fell, Merlin.” Jo said.  
Merlin pressed a kiss to her head and allowed Ellen, who’d been sitting to the side, to talk to her daughter.   
He walked over to his boys.  
“Okay, you two have a lot to explain. Why the hell are you going after the Devil with shotguns?” Merlin demanded, lowly.  
“We have this.” Dean pulled out a gun Merlin hadn’t seen in some time. The Colt. Merlin stared, disdainfully at it.  
“What is that going to do against an Archangel?” Merlin demanded. Dean seemed taken aback.   
“The Colt kills everything!” Sam insisted.  
“The Colt kills everything but six beings in the universe.” Merlin began. “God, Michael, Lucifer, Gabriel, Raphael, and myself.” Merlin listed off. “Only three things can kill those beings - can kill us. Death’s scythe, an Archangel blade, and Excalibur. And judging by the amount of Reapers out there, all three of those things are gonna be on the playing field, soon.”  
A shocked expression settled its way onto both boys’ faces.  
“What?” Dean asked.  
“There are reapers everywhere out there, and this is Carthage. Dear old Luci’s trying to summon Death. We’re facing up against the Devil with four hunters, one of whom isn’t gonna last the night, a soggy king, and a warlock without magic, and we didn’t even find Gwaine! Just our luck.”   
“You don’t know that! Jo can make it! We just need to get a stretcher or something, get her outta here.” Dean insisted. Poor, stubborn Dean. Even he knew that Jo was going to die. But he couldn’t admit it to himself.  
“I’ll see what we can do.” Sam said, turning to go.  
“Stop. Guys, stop.” Jo called out. All eyes in the room turned to her and Ellen “Can we, uh, be realistic about this, please?”  
Merlin bit his lip. He knew what she was about to say.  
“I can't move my legs. I can't be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage. We gotta get our priorities straight here.” She reasoned.  
Sam and Dean look at each other, almost ashamedly.  
“Number one, I'm not going anywhere.” Jo pointed out.  
“Joanna Beth, you stop talking like that.” Ellen scolded, tearing up. Even Jo’s own mother could see what the truth was.  
“Mom. I can't fight. I can't walk. But I can do something. We got propane, wiring, rock salt, iron nails, everything we need.” Jo said. Merlin saw where she was going.  
“Everything we need?” Sam questioned.  
“She’s telling us to build a hellhound bomb.” Merlin translated.  
“No. Jo, no.” Dean denied, as Merlin knew he would.  
“You got another plan? You got any other plan? Those are hellhounds out there, Dean. They've got all of our scents. Those bitches will never stop coming after you. We let the dogs in, you guys hit the roof, make a break for the building next over. I can wait here with my finger on the button, rip those mutts a new one. Or at least get you a few minutes' head start, anyway.” Jo offered. She smiled, ruefully.   
“No, I won't let you.” Ellen stuttered a bit.  
“This is why we're here, right?” Jo said. Ellen began to cry, and it was a heartbreaking sight for Merlin.  
“If I can get us a shot on the devil…Dean, we have to take it.” Jo appealed to Dean.  
“No!” Ellen protested. Merlin had to look away. “That's not-” Jo cut her off.  
“Mom. This might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. Might wanna take it?” Jo smiled as she said it.  
Ellen stifled a sob, then turned to the four of them  
“You heard her. Get to work.”

 

It didn’t take long for all four of them to gather supplies. And while Arthur, Sam, and Dean were putting the bomb together, Merlin stooped over Jo, who had called him away from his task.  
“You remember when I was a kid and you would watch me while mom worked?” Jo asked, wistful gleam in her eyes.  
“Of course, little lion cub.” Merlin said, tears starting to form in his eyes.  
“One of my favorite memories was the day you decided I was a knight. Called me ‘Lady Joanna’. I’d never been anything more fancy…” She chuckled to herself. “Y’know, I sometimes wish I could’ve been a real knight.”  
It was like a lightbulb turned on in Merlin’s head.  
“You still can be. We can give you a proper send-off, as a knight of Camelot.” Merlin said. Jo looked up, puzzled. “We have the king with us.” Merlin gained a small smile on his face.  
“Well…I don’t wanna go to the afterlife with regrets…” Jo said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Identical to when she’d first been knighted by Merlin.  
“It won’t take but a moment.” Merlin assured, and called Arthur over.  
Arthur stalked over, looking tired, but curious.  
“I believe we have another knight of the Round Table, Arthur.” Merlin said, nodding his head towards Jo.  
Arthur nodded his head, resigned. He knew what the pact of brotherhood meant between knights. And Merlin knew he’d willingly give it to Jo, who was so ready to sacrifice herself, in spite of her clear fear.  
Arthur drew his sword.  
“Do you, Joanna, daughter of Ellen, solemnly swear to protect Camelot and all her people?” Arthur asked.   
“I do, and more.” Jo added, with a small grin.  
“Then I now proclaim you Lady Joanna, Knight of Camelot and the Round Table.” Arthur lightly tapped her shoulders with his blade. “For the love of Camelot. And now, the world.”  
Jo smiled, brightly. As bright as she could, with her injury. And Merlin, despite still crying, smiled with her. He’d at least been able to do one thing right without his magic.

 

That was the first and final night of Lady Joanna’s knighthood. She was truly the bravest of them all, Arthur realized. The bravest knight he’d ever had the pleasure of fighting beside.  
And as the building blazed, engulfing both Jo and Ellen in fire, Arthur raised his sword to the sky in salute.  
For there were never two souls more deserving of a king’s respect.


End file.
